


Ephemeral

by Miku



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Angst, Blood and Gore, Bottom Eren Yeager, Cannibalism, Character Death, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mind Games, Moral Ambiguity, Murder, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Physical Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Psychological Horror, Serial Killers, Slow Build, Stalking, Top Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2020-07-29 14:02:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 38
Words: 137,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20083414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miku/pseuds/Miku
Summary: -It all starts with Eren.-After the sudden death of both of his parents, fifteen-year-old Eren Jäger not only is forced to move in with a family friend he's never heard of, let alone has ever even met before, but as well suffers from terrifying hallucinations.Though the reclusive and rather creepy Levi is not at all an ideal candidate to be taking care of the teenager, they're stuck with one another in a single cabin in the woods for the next three years.A (psychological) horror fic, about a grieving and disturbed boy falling for a man who seems to have sinister intentions as he continuously sucks Eren in as much as he pushes him away; at times with brute force.





	1. Hallway Creatures

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, thank you so much for the support on 'Midnight Breezes'. Your comments helped me out a lot to make up my mind on whether I want to try to 'perfect' my writing versus share stories with you guys. (Spoiler, it's the latter)
> 
> This story is about Eren suffering from horrific hallucinations as he lives alongside Levi who is a stranger and seems to only feed Eren's inner demons.  
If you're sensitive to EreJean, do note that their relationship in this fic spreads across only a few chapters and isn't highly focused on.
> 
> Take care.

_"It all starts with Eren."_

In sweeps of colors the world passes Eren by.  
His skull is being rattled as it rests against the car window while being transported over uneven roads at high speed. Though his eyes barely take in the sight of trees and houses flashing by, his mind pays great attention to the conversation he can pick up coming from the front seats. 

They’re speaking about work, about personal problems, about colleagues, their tones hushed as if Eren would be hurt any more knowing life goes on with anyone else but him.   
Eren’s world had stopped two months earlier. Along with both of his parents’ lives being snuffed out, a great part of him had passed away along with them. With him having moved from his grand-mother to his best friend’s parents; Eren quickly figured out that he’s undesired company, a burden to others no matter them having the boy’s best interest in mind. 

No one can handle him. 

And everyone moves on. Everyone but him. 

It’s a peculiar sensation to be rejected by various adults after both your parents are dead. For starters, no one’s supposed to care more for you than your own blood and hence, when being tossed aside by others that were supposed to substitute as guardians, your value of self disintegrates rapidly. 

Along with the loss of faith in himself comes anger. 

Incredible amounts of frustration at what has happened to him.   
Agitation at the absurdity of life.   
Fear at the lack of solidity, at knowing the rug can be pulled out from underneath him at any given time. 

Just like that. 

Eren blinks when hearing his name called, glancing at the two strangers in the front of the car though he doesn’t move his head from the window.   
The image of the woman who’s turned around to address him is distorted by the rattling of the glass, making his sight tremble. 

“There’s a lot of youth camps in this area. Have you ever been in the scouts?” She smiles and Eren knows she’s trying to cheer him up, foolishly so. But his anger at being driven to a place miles and miles away from a home he no longer inhabits prevents him from curling up his lips or even reply to her in the first place.   
He looks back outside. 

And she gives up, leaves him alone. 

Like everyone has done and will continue to do. 

The way to the place he’ll be residing in is hours away and if it hadn’t been for his empty stomach, Eren would’ve gotten car-sick by now. Instead, his stomach gnaws at him, urging him to eat even though he has nothing at his disposal. Not that he’d even consider taking a bite of anything if presented to him. 

He hasn’t been hungry for months, eats only to not pass out or when his stomach-pains get severe enough so he can no longer laze about and ignore the signs.   
Placing the differences between low blood pressure, low sugar levels or anxiety has become easy after months of suffering through all three of them. 

None of them seem to bother him today. 

Not even at the mere fact he’s being moved to live with a distant family-friend he’s never heard of, in a place he doesn’t know, by two social workers he’s seen maybe three times. Not even this causes him anxiety. He’s just numb today. After countless of sleepless nights, Eren lacks the energy to put up a fight or start to panic. 

Regardless, his stomach clenches when the guy behind the wheel murmurs ‘we’re here’ when turning a corner on a calm street only to enter a road leading into a forest. 

Great. The damn woods. What more ideal place to get murdered by a distant acquaintance is there? Eren despises nature. He hadn’t always, not as a child, but at this very moment he finds the energy to snarl to himself at the presence of trees surrounding him.   
The purity of chirping birds, the bright patches of sunlight peeking through tree-branches, the scent of petrichor after last night’s rain reaching through the old car’s ventilation system. It’s all so ironic and unenjoyable. It just rubs in Eren’s face that the entire planet is rotating, living and dying and rebirthing without him. 

As the tires roll slowly over gravel, Eren lifts his head, clasping his hands together only to squeeze hard enough to hurt his fingers. 

He doesn’t want this.   
Never wanted this. 

Didn’t want to lose his parents, didn’t want to be rejected by his own grandmother, didn’t want to get kicked out by his friend Mikasa’s parents who’d always been nothing but nice to him in the ten years he’d known their daughter.   
But then when times get rough, when his attitude changes for the worse; he’s dumped like a bag of dirt. 

It takes five more minutes before they reach a single, cabin-styled house placed in the middle of an open patch surrounded by an amount of trees so grand and dense Eren can’t see a single thing past the third row of them.   
The building itself is small –humble-, a cliché with flower pots on window-sills and curtains swooped aside in arched shapes. Leading up to the wooden door is a path, framed with bushes that sprout red roses. Regardless of the romantic scenery, Eren takes note of details hidden behind the misleading picture; a crack in one of the upstairs windows, the roof missing some tiles, flaking paint behind ivy crawling up the walls and the droopy state of earlier mentioned roses.   
The man living here doesn’t take care of this place much, unless he enjoys the ancient feel to it. 

When stepping out of the vehicle, rucksack swung onto his back, Eren glances up at the sky above; the sun beaming at him. Summer is a season that once belonged to him; the heat, the comfort, the excitement of teased freedom.   
This is no longer the case as the current weather just reminds Eren of how grim he himself has become. What use is there to the sun when he’s got no one to enjoy it with any longer? No more barbeques, no more garden-parties, no more gatherings of his friends which are left behind where he used to live. No more late summer-night dinners outside with his parents.   
None of that. 

Just him, here, left behind, dumped at the doorstep of a stranger. 

“This place looks lovely, doesn’t it?” The woman says to Eren when she appears next to him with his trolley suitcase. Her hand presses gently against his elbow, nudging it as if it’d push him into gear to show some emotions. 

Once more the teenager doesn’t bother replying, instead grabbing his luggage and dragging it behind him as he follows the male social worker towards the front door.   
Regardless of him being distant towards the both of them, the lady still pats his shoulder as she passes him by to stand next to her colleague who rings the bell after sharing a glance with her. 

Long moments follow, fleeting seconds of rustling leaves and synchronized chirping of nearby crickets. The sun beats down on the crown of Eren's head and it only serves to dampen his mood further. 

“Maybe knock?” The female hints in a whisper.   
As the man agrees and acts upon her suggestion, Eren bitterly imagines being left out here with no one coming to the door. Just the thought –the possibility- of even this stranger leaving him aside before meeting him is as masochistically amusing as it’s dreadful. 

About to word his inappropriate assumption, the door in front of them opens slowly, hinges creaking, revealing the beginnings of a pitch-black gaping hole to substitute a possible hallway.   
Even the social workers in front of him take a step back, apprehensive at the oddity of being met by an eerie inside to the serene surroundings. 

However, a tall figure creeps into the sunlight, revealing blond hair and perfect teeth displayed not in a hungry snarl but a welcoming smile.   
Eren watches the blue-eyed man greet the workers, shaking hands, introducing himself and communicating in pleasant fashion. Though not bothering to listen to whatever it is he is saying, the warmth and depth to his voice are as homey as the scent of freshly baked bread that’s begun to escape from the opened entrance. 

“Mr. Ackerman, is it?” The woman asks after their pleasantries. 

The tall man straightens up, shrinking the hallway behind him with his impressive posture, before he throws back a question himself. 

“Depends who’s asking?” 

A swift silence follows and though even Eren caught the joke, the pair in front of him stir momentarily. 

“I’m kidding. Yes, I am Levi Ackerman. The one and only.” 

The laughter that follows is awkward though carries relief along with it. Eren decides these two are hopeless. 

“Please, come on in.” Levi says and has to take a step outside to allow enough space for everyone to enter through the small doorway. 

The boy’s shoulders pull up subconsciously as he passes him by, ignoring the ‘Nice to meet you, Eren.’ which he murmurs to him. 

“It’s straight ahead.” Levi assures after closing the front door, as he notices the trio stuck in the hallway, unsure of where to head. 

“This house seems incredibly small for you.” The male worker jokes over his shoulder while Eren tries not to jump out of his skin having Levi at his heels. 

“Oh yes, I still bump my head against door-posts daily. I don’t get used to it.” 

“You’ve been living here for nearly a decade though, haven’t you?” The woman adds on, likely remembering details from Levi’s file to deem him suited to take care of Eren until he’s eighteen. 

Three more years of depending on a stranger’s kindness. Three years of trying to not get kicked out again.   
Three years of trying to get his life in order and walk out of this place a confident adult. 

“That’s right.” Levi’s answer is short as they continue through the dark hallway which seems to go on forever. There’s plenty of doors to both of Eren’s sides, though all of them are shut. 

“My head would be better off if I’d at least fix the lights in the hallway but apparently I enjoy the murky atmosphere of it.” 

Eren frowns at the odd joke, the bitter tone to it –sarcastic-.   
Though he’s too deep in his own hell to try and see himself connect with this man whatsoever, Eren assumes he’ll be tolerable to his adolescent- and trauma-induced irritation. As long as he cuts down on the awkward jokes, that is. 

When entering a rather spacious kitchen and offered to take seats at the dining table, Eren makes sure to sit down at the end of the furniture; his vision able to watch everything occur before him rather than have him turn his head every other minute to follow a conversation he’s already dreading.   
Sure enough, Levi sits down at one side, the social workers across of him, granting Eren a perfect view of the trio in front of him. 

As papers and files are brought up, the only sound is that of a nearby clock ticking, and the scuffle of documents being placed on the wooden table-top. A pile of sheets is slid across to Levi, a pen on top of it and the following ten minutes consists of the three of them going through the contract that declares Eren Jäger to be taken care of by Levi Ackerman until his eighteenth birthday.   
It’s as boring as it is offensive, being written off like it’s an arranged marriage or the selling of live-stock. 

But what did he expect? What can Eren possibly expect after he set his grandmother’s kitchen on fire and stole the contents of Mikasa’s father’s safe? He can’t expect people to keep asking him how he’s doing. Especially since he never replies truthfully, instead optioning for a bland-spoken ‘fine’. 

How is he still expecting understanding and kindness when he’s done everything to make people despise him? 

Stupidity? Naivety? Whichever it is, Eren’s entitlement is only shoved aside by self-hatred until it elbows itself back into the picture. It’s an endless battle between self-pity and hatred towards the outside. A showdown of wanting to cry and wanting to fight. A loss of desiring to request help and yet slap away the hand that reaches out to him. 

Eren’s his own worst enemy.   
The excuse being that he’s lost his parents abruptly; hence he hasn’t been shoved in juvie yet. 

“So, Eren. Do you agree with the rules we’ve set for Mr. Ackerman and yourself?” 

Honestly, he hadn’t been listening but he’s aware they likely consist of ‘do not, under any circumstances, set the kitchen on fire’ amongst others.   
So, Eren nods, suppressing a shrug to avoid any suspicion of his disinterest. 

“We understand this is another very big step for you, Eren, and-” 

“It’s fine.” Eren interrupts the lady, wondering if she hates him yet. Yet, glancing up at her shows nothing but a worried frown as she presses her lips together in a tense line. Though it’s obvious she doesn’t believe him and he can see the questions bouncing around in her head, she nods and turns her attention back to Levi. 

She smiles, reaching out her hand. 

“Thank you, Mr. Ackerman. He’s a bright young man going through a rough patch, thank you for taking this upon yourself.” 

As Levi shakes her hand, meeting her smile with one of his own –though more reserved-, Eren holds back a scoff at him being perceived the hero. Like he’s doing the government a favor by keeping Eren out of juvenile and off the streets. Like he’s doing these social workers a favor by finalizing their mountain of paperwork on Eren. 

What a joke. 

Eren shakes both their hands when they get up to leave. However, he remains on his chair with one foot on the seat, resting his chin on his knee; watching them exit the kitchen together with Levi.   
Their voices become muffled the farther they get from him and Eren wonders if this is finally the last time he’ll be seeing the pair. Is this his last stop before getting on his own two feet?   
Doubtful but desirable.   
Even with this house appearing as if it’s been plucked from a Hanzel and Gretel horror novel –large, old-fashioned oven included-, even with it being located in the middle of fuck-knows-where, even so; Eren desires to have his own space somewhere again, to either wither or heal. 

The house is quiet. The thin windows allow some of the chirping of birds to reach his ears, but when Eren focuses on his nearest surroundings; all but the clock on the wall is silent. Focusing solely on his hearing, eyes closed, the teenager distantly takes note of car doors being slammed shut and soon after the hum of an engine starts up, then fades away.   
The front door clicks shut and footsteps become louder. 

Eren opens his eyes when Levi enters the kitchen once more. Their gazes meet and the boy doesn’t return his smile. 

“Let me show you your room.” He suggests and Eren’s eager to lock himself up in a space where no one can reach him for the next decade. 

Following Levi up a wooden staircase that creaks dramatically under their combined weight, Eren takes note of the lack of pictures or personal items throughout the place. No matter the old-fashioned style of the building –what with its abundance of wood and lack of light-, there’s a strange absence of personality all around.   
Odd, since Levi seems full of life and quite charismatic. 

However, the lack of knick-knacks and personal touches grants Eren a basic bedroom he can make his own quite easily throughout the upcoming years –or months- he'll be residing here.   
Except for a single bed, a night cabinet and a desk with chair, there’s nothing to fill up the space. 

“I’m sure you’ll be getting a closet soon enough.” Levi mumbles before handing a key over to him. 

Eren observes the bronze object, dumbly, before realizing it must belong to his bedroom. 

“There’s a bathroom to the right at the end of the hall. For now, just settle in and call me if you want anything.” 

After plucking the key from his hand gingerly, Eren watches Levi leave before making haste in closing the door and locking it.   
He exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding for what seems like the past hour. 

With his head leaning against the wooden door, Eren asks himself what will be the first thing that goes wrong. Will Levi become pushy in wanting to form a bond or perhaps he’ll ignore him for three years? What will school be like in this area? How will he get there? Will he have to suffer through two awkward car-drives with this man every single week-day? Will Eren start a fight? With Levi, with classmates? Will Levi try to replace his father? Is he even married? Is there a wife who will force her mother-instincts onto him? 

Almost more than being abandoned, Eren fears to be swallowed, suffocated, by a new family. He’s frightened to end up stuck in a family that appears perfect on picture but is toxic between the walls of their home. Or, moreover, he worries that Levi and a possible wife will be so kind, so good to him, they’ll erase the memories of his parents. 

Carla and Grisha. His rocks, his angels, his life, his protectors and caretakers, his best friends. They’d been so good. All to be desired of parents. And more.   
So good. 

And now gone. 

Just like that. 

Irreplaceable. 

Naturally, Eren remains in his room for the rest of the day, assuring Levi he does not want dinner and being grateful when the man doesn’t push his reasoning to.   
Eren leaves only once, at nine in the evening to shower, before crawling in bed. 

The sheets smell clean, though their patterns are so old-fashioned Eren had expected them to have a scent similar to that of books shoved in the backs of libraries to never be rented out. Everything’s colored dull, brown and orange and more browns and it’d be depressing if it weren’t for the fact that Eren already feels like absolute shit as is. 

With his mind going a hundred miles an hour, Eren has no choice but to get up after hours of trying to catch sleep. It’s past midnight when he flicks on the night-lamp on the bedside-cabinet and sits down on the floor with his suitcase; unzipping it. 

He doesn’t have many things. Little clothes, little belongings.   
Picking up his only book, Eren strokes his fingers over the cover first, then the spine which is ruffled and starting to shred at the countless of times it’s been bent open and closed.   
It’s a collection of fairy-tales, many of which he remembers from his mother reading to him when he’d been much younger. Alongside paragraphs, old-fashioned drawings are displayed; detailed and refined beyond what one would expect from a book designed for children.   
Although, as he’d gotten older and skipped through the pages to look for his favorite drawings, Eren had caught words such as ‘sharp fangs’, ‘bloody prints’ and ‘despair’ amongst many more in its genre. Perhaps it’s not as child-friendly as his mother had portrayed it to be. 

Eren had never taken the time to check and when he feels his throat tighten at the memory of her voice, he places the book next to him. Disposing of it. 

For now. 

In the following minutes, the quiet pressing on his ears, Eren takes out his clothes, sliding his shirts into the night-stand before placing his book in the drawer of it. His pants remain in the suitcase, as well as his only stuffed animal.   
Too old to sleep with it, it has no use other than curse him with its sentimental value. 

The envelope with pictures of his parents and himself remains unopened as it’s been since the day he’d collected them two weeks after their deaths. It’s too painful, it chips away at his numb state just holding them, let alone seeing them.   
The envelope joins his book in the cabinet’s drawer before he slides it shut. 

And that’s that. 

The only thing left in front of him is a suitcase with two pairs of pants, five pairs of socks and a matching number in underwear. He doesn’t even have pajamas.   
Eren sits in his black T-shirt and grey underwear, staring out in front of him, his mind chewing on memories he’s been holding back. 

However, as a single recollection shoves itself to the forefront of his consciousness, he’s suddenly startled into distraction by the door-handle moving down.   
The first thing that comes to mind, when the bedroom door –that he’d left unlocked after his visit to the bathroom- swings open is that he’s about to get molested. 

That’s what is said, isn’t it? A stranger coming into your bedroom at one in the morning without knocking; that’s the key to a bad time. 

Regardless of how upset he already is, Eren’s breath stutters when not Levi but a stranger appears in the doorway. 

That’s even worse, though. 

They stare at each other, both frozen in place though Eren can hardly make out anything as the short male stands in a pitch-black hallway. 

His heart beats in his throat, his ears ring. It’s a burglar. It’s a fucking burglar and Eren has zero cash up his ass so he’s going to get beaten, raped and murdered. The guy probably already dealt with Levi, that’d explain the earlier murmurs downstairs. Why else would Levi allow this stranger to visit Eren at this hour? 

This is it. 

For once it’s not Eren’s fault that his life is going to get fucked up royally. 

The man enters slowly, stopping once inside and in the dim lighting of his bedroom; Eren lets his eyes observe the creature that will choke him to death within the next five minutes.   
The stranger is short, shorter than Eren himself, but he makes up for it not only with the subtle hints of muscles beneath black layers of clothes but moreover with the expression on his face.   
He appears as seething as he does dead. Furrowed brows and clenched jaws aside, the bags under his eyes, the light color of his pupils and paleness of his skin make Eren second-guess that vampires aren’t a real thing. 

Though still frozen in place, Eren finds his voice after the man’s been staring him in the eye like a wild animal for what feels like minutes. The eeriness has made place for awkwardness. 

“What...” Eren starts, making sure the man doesn’t move at the silence being broken. 

Except for a blink, the stranger remains still. 

“Who...” The teenager decides to change his question as it’s becoming clear that murder isn’t on his mind. Who would wait this long to kill someone? 

“-are you?” 

A moment follows before the stranger’s face loses its edge, expressing disbelief alongside a scoff. Eren exhales quietly when the man finally breaks their eye-contact, digging hands into his pockets before laying his gaze back on the boy. 

“I’m Levi.” 


	2. Finger Nails

Levi? 

Eren frowns at the short man in front of him telling him that he in fact is Levi. Does Eren remember him wrong? Had he been hallucinating –it wouldn’t be the first time- or do these two men just share the same first name? 

“You’re not supposed to be here.” The new Levi murmurs lowly, facial features unreadable as shadows contort it too much for Eren to assign an emotion to. His voice is gravely, as if intentionally made to sound breathy and hoarse, though it might be because Eren’s never heard him before. It’s a unique aspect to a peculiar-looking individual. 

It’s only after letting the rumble of his voice sink in, that Eren processes the words spoken to him. 

Were they a threat? Or just some plain information shared with him?   
Why is he not supposed to be here? Whomever Levi is, they’d certainly agreed beforehand to provide shelter for him. Eren hadn’t been brought here just on good luck alone, there’d been arrangements, deals made beforehand over telephone. That’s how it works, isn’t it? 

“Levi Ackerman agreed on being my guardian.” Eren says slowly, carefully as he gets up, noticing only when half-way up that he’s dressed in a shirt and underwear alone. He holds back the urge to cup himself, preferring to keep his hands free in case this critter launches at him. 

‘New’ Levi’s eyes roam over his body slowly, from head to toe and back up. The boy’s skin crawls. 

“They were supposed to meet me, not him. They would never have left you here with someone like me.” He raises his chin slightly when sharing this, displaying arrogance –pride- or perhaps he’s trying to gain some height on Eren now that he’s standing up as well. 

Calculating the distance between them, Eren forces his shoulders to relax. It’s alright, if this man has anything on his mind, Eren will have enough time to see it in his body before even reaching him. 

“There’s two Levi Ackermans?” 

Supposed-Levi clacks his tongue, his eyelids lowering in a way that comes close to the petulant rolling of eyes. Eren recognizes this because he’s done it himself countless of times throughout his adolescence so far. It makes him second-guess this man’s age. He looks to be in his late-twenties, but perhaps that’s the dim light surrounding them, playing tricks on his eyes. 

“I’m Levi Ackerman.” He repeats more clearly than before, pulling his hands from his pockets before turning around. 

Eren relaxes as he watches him being swallowed by the pitch-black of the hallway, though tenses right back up when the man glares at him from over his shoulder.   
His eyes are so light they almost appear white with single black dots for pupils, Eren’s amazed at the eeriness of this creature’s appearance. Even his raven hair is cut in sharp angles and downward spikes, leaving nothing about him soft or welcoming. 

“Let’s talk more. Tomorrow.” Levi’s voice is lowered in a quiet whisper, for once not an ominous tone to his voice but rather a gentle touch to it. 

Eren’s certain he’s imagining it, for the leer doesn’t at all match the lilt of his invitation. 

When the man closes the door behind him and leaves Eren on his own, once more do the boy’s shoulders relax. He hadn’t noticed them tensing right back up, nor had he noticed the goosebumps on his skin until he rubs his arm to provide it some warmth. 

The room is freezing. 

* * *

The morning after. 

Eren stares at the dark wooden ceiling above him, the only sound around him; rain ticking on the window like pointy fingernails mocking the anxious state he’s woken up in. The room is darker than it’d been yesterday throughout the day, grey clouds preventing any sunlight from breaking through to illuminate and warm the room that feels even less like his than it had before. 

Replaying memories of the supposedly ‘real Levi’ cause his body to maintain its rigid state. Not only had it felt like meeting a creature that had slipped right out of a horror-novel, but as well is the more rational part of Eren’s mind torturing him with the knowledge that he’s once more undesired. 

‘You’re not supposed to be here.’ 

The words hit home, reminding Eren of his grandmother’s ‘You don’t belong here.’ and Mikasa’s ‘It’s best that you leave us.’. All familiar, similar, but they never fail to stab him in the chest, knife being twisted every time he recalls the memories. 

Looking down at himself, he can imagine the blade still impaled into him, handle sticking out; waiting for someone to pull it out and let him bleed to death, to be rid of this torture.   
But that never happens and Eren’s left walking around with a knife through his heart that keeps hurting, infecting, piercing deeper day by day as he tries his best to move on in life. 

Does he try his best though? 

What is he even supposed to do to get better? 

Somehow, he expects it to just happen. That he’ll wake up one day, better. No more blade, no wound left, all patched up. 

The knock at the door makes him jump up in bed with a gasp. His brain seems to have been jolted awake, air in his lungs, blood pumping through his system. The clarity makes him doubt whether he’d even been conscious to begin with.   
Another knock makes him flinch and he stares at the door across of him. 

“Eren?” 

For reasons only marginally known to him, Eren is able to exhale when recognizing the first Levi’s voice, the blond one, the friendly one. 

“Yeah.” The boy calls back, rubbing his eyes as he goes to sit on the edge of his bed, not too worried to be walked in on as he’d made sure to lock the door after that gremlin had left last night. 

“Would you like to join me for a walk outside in an hour or so?” 

“No.” His reply is immediate. Of course he doesn’t want to be walking through a soggy, wet forest with a man twice his size and very capable of hurting him and or torture him with terrible jokes and prodding questions.   
Sounds like a bad time to Eren. 

“Well, Levi and I have got some explaining to do. So, whenever you’re ready...” The man pauses. 

“There’s breakfast on the kitchen-table. Please, do eat.” 

With that, Eren listens to the stranger step away from the door, eventually going down the creaky staircase. 

Eren wonders what their explanation would be. As far as he can tell, the social workers and himself were supposed to have met the short man yesterday rather than the blond one. So why hadn’t they?   
Who’s this stranger that signed the contract? And why had he done so –apparently- against the ‘real’ Levi’s wishes? 

Gazing out the window to his left, watching branches bend and groan under the push of wind, Eren senses dread under his skin. Apprehension and worry over where he ended up and what is waiting for him around the many corners he’ll be turning. More than before he feels alone. He hasn’t even got a cellphone to contact anyone with. 

Then again, who would he call? His entire small-scaled family has abandoned him, his friends have forgotten about him after he disappeared for months. No one stuck around. 

His mind ponders on while he showers and gets dressed in plain, black jeans and a muddy green shirt. The cogs in Eren’s brain only stop turning when he sits on top of the staircase for nearly thirty minutes; making sure not a single sound betrays the presence of anyone inside, before he descends towards the kitchen. 

As assured before, an empty glass, bowl and clean spoon are placed on top of the kitchen-table, three different kinds of cornflake-boxes displayed next to the objects.   
Eren glances around the room which is dark and quiet except for the rain beating against windows and the howl of wind as it forces itself through crooks and crannies of the house. It feels lonely and unknown and the boy wonders if he’ll ever feel at home here. That is, if he’ll even be allowed to stay here long enough to adjust in the first place. 

Pacing towards the nearby refrigerator, Eren finds himself tip-toeing without intending to. The floorboards underneath his feet aren’t as cold as tiles would be, yet they’re still too cool for comfort. Inside the fridge he is surprised to find an abundance of ingredients and products rather than jars of human fingernails and a slab of raw meat. There’s fresh vegetables and fruits, yoghurts, condiments, eggs and various bottles of juices. 

It’s rather typical. 

Like his own fridge at home had been back then. 

Inhaling the scent of lemon and celery, Eren retrieves a bottle of orange juice and a milk carton before turning around. 

He drops both. 

Levi doesn’t let go of his eyes, staring him down as he sits at the farthest end of the kitchen table, slightly hunched as if ready to crawl over the furniture towards him. Though the window to Eren’s right allows some light to come through and illuminate the middle of the table with a gray sheen, Levi remains in the darkest corner, face partially hidden by the weak sunbeam between them, dust floating through it. 

“You dropped something.” The man murmurs in that same hoarse voice that’d haunted Eren’s dreams last night. 

The boy blinks, reminding himself to inhale –with a shudder- before he glances down at the bottle and carton he’d let slip from his grip when being startled. He’d be amazed at how neither objects broke if it weren’t for the discomfort preventing him to feel any positive emotion at that moment. 

Though his initial plan is to run up the stairs and lock himself in his bedroom, Eren can’t seem to force himself to reach the staircase. Mainly because it's located right behind the man at the table. Passing him by seems frightful, Eren can imagine Levi grabbing his wrist, perhaps whispering something sinister into his ear or ripping his throat out with his teeth. 

He blinks away the graphic pictures before squatting down and picking up the juice and milk. 

“Did Erwin explain?” 

The hairs on the back of Eren’s neck raise at hearing the low tones to Levi’s voice. He straightens up, placing the drinks on the table before going to stand behind the chair he’d planned on sitting in. 

“Erwin...” Eren starts before figuring out the blond man must be who Levi’s talking about. 

When a flame appears in front of Levi’s face and his features end up distorted by an orange glow that seems to have come straight from hell to greet its devil, Eren has to hold back the urge to take a few steps backwards and flatten himself against the wall behind him; hoping it’ll swallow him into an abyss.   
Even the idea of spending an eternity in a black void seems more desirable than being in this kitchen with this man for a mere minute. 

Levi takes a drag from his cigarette before leaning back in his seat and observing Eren’s face closely from across the table. 

“Your parents. Erwin. And myself.” Levi speaks in clipped tones, patiently, as if enjoying the curiosity, the uncertainty of Eren. 

“We were all friends one time.” 

He takes another drag before ticking off ashes into an ashtray by flicking his thumbnail against the butt of the cigarette. 

“It was an ongoing, albeit tasteless, joke amongst us that if all went wrong and all else failed; I’d be the one to raise you.” 

There’s plenty of questions swirling through Eren’s mind after hearing this. The first one being if he can believe –let alone trust- this odd individual. He’d never heard of an Erwin or Levi, had never met them as far as he remembers and has never even seen a picture of them in his entire fifteen years on this planet. Amongst wondering why his parents would ever allow this man to take care of him, Eren also feels a sickening sense of eagerness to hear about the memories these men have of Carla and Grisha. 

"And then I was contacted about you. Remembering the ongoing joke; I’m aware you must’ve hit rock-bottom in your life to end up with me. After all... I was the last choice in this scenario.” 

Eren wants to spit a ‘I can see why.’ in the man’s face but he has still not decided upon how eager this Levi could be when it comes to choking him to death. 

“Your parents legitimately wrote me down as the last option to take care of you, were something to happen to them.” Levi huffs, and though the corners of his mouth don’t budge, Eren recognizes that it was supposed to be an exclaim of bitter amusement. 

“I can’t refuse, technically. But they’d have never left you here if they’d met me. I had plans to make sure of that.” 

The puzzle pieces fit together somewhat as Eren figures out what had taken place. He digs his nails into the back-rest of the chair he’s leaning on. 

“Erwin...” 

Levi nods, raising his eyebrows momentarily before forcefully digging his cigarette into the ashes, twisting and breaking it. 

“Erwin beat me to it. Went as far as to forge my signature for signing the contract.” 

Throughout his explanation, Eren gets more used to the gravelly sound of his voice, to the light color of his irises and finds himself relaxing carefully. Okay, there is actually a human being inside this creature’s cocoon and it’s not out to get him quite yet. 

However, then again. 

“You told me I’m not supposed to be here.” Eren finds his voice, though it shakes. The fire inside of him is dim, wonders where its catalyst has gone, where that spark of rebellion has gone. His senses have been dampened by the fear Levi had caused him last night. By the heavy atmosphere of this entire building and its surroundings. 

It's unpleasant here. 

Cold. 

He shivers. 

“You aren’t.” Levi confirms before getting up slowly. Eren figures his movements are a great deal of what freaks him out about this man. He goes from A to B at such a calculated pace that it reminds him of predatory animals. Hunters. Killers. 

Meticulous. 

Though Eren’s fingernails hurt with the force he’s putting on them as they dig into the wooden chair, his lungs shudder with newfound oxygen when the man goes to leave the kitchen; taking some of the pressure with him. 

“But you’re here now. So, we better make the best of it.” With that he exits, disappearing as quietly as he’d come. 

Eren nods, more to convince himself than anything else.   
The words should’ve sparked hope in him. 

Here he is, with his parents’ last choice –but a choice nonetheless- and the stranger’s assured him they’ll just have to make it work; wordlessly letting him know he’ll put the effort in.   
But he finds no excitement in this knowledge. 

A hint of him tells him to throw a brick through every single window of the house, have him kicked out and let the orphanage do its shitty job to grant him a family less secluded and creepy than this one.   
But it’s been only one day... 

It’s only been one, single, shitty day. 

And no matter the cold, no matter the blood under his nails, no matter the dark hallways and forced solitude, there’s got to be something here for him if his parents decided so. 

They’d never let him down after what they did to him; leaving him behind, selfishly –stupidly- dying. 

There’s got to be something here for him. For once, there has to be. 


	3. Black Wolves

The day progresses slowly. Eren stays in his room, on  edge continuously.

For most of the day he can’t tell whether anyone’s in the house or not, since the building creaks and sighs with every gust of wind from outside. Yet as the rain settles when evening approaches, the sound of footsteps is apparent in the hallway, yet no one ever halts or knocks at the boy’s bedroom-door.

His stomach growls, upset at Eren having skipped dinner once again. What worries the kid more though is that Erwin hasn’t once checked in on him, making him fear Levi’s the only one around.   
It doesn’t help that the footsteps in the hallway seem to roam around endlessly, as if someone’s searching for something in one room, to the next, and back.   
Each time the person passes near the door, Eren holds his breath, sitting up stiffly in his bed, hands fisted in the blanket.

He fucking hates this place.

As time passes by and the footsteps have long descended the staircase, Eren opens the drawer of his bedside-table, retrieving the large, red book.   
Placing it onto his lap, the weight of it is heavy; solid in its meaningful past, recollections and nostalgia.

He flips through the pages, slowly, observing the drawings and reading sentences here and there.

Red Riding Hood has always been his favorite, though on closer inspection, the story does not end the way his mother had read to him. Rather than having the beast shot and allowing Riding Hood’s alive grandmother to crawl out of its mouth, the creature devours the little girl alongside the hunter.

Eren lets his fingers slide over the glossy page displaying an eerily realistic wolf peeking from underneath the grandmother’s bed. Its eyes are yellow, teeth sharp and white with a long red tongue dripping with saliva. The grin on its face is sinister, ravenous, as are the black claws reaching to grasp the woman’s ankle and drag her to the floor.

The drawings don’t look like they had when he was a child. The wolf’s coat no longer has a brownish grey shade, his black nose isn’t as rounded and dog-like as it’d been, his eyes are no longer wide and large with blown pupils. It no longer appears like a goofy cartoon.

It’s sharp. Spiked hair and light eyes. Hunched, staring at him from the page; never looking away.

Just smirking. Growing. Breathing on him. Eren can smell its breath of rotten, human flesh. He can feel cold claws wrapping around his throat. Looking away isn’t an option. Look away and you’re done. Look away and it’ll move closer. Face to face. Until it eats his face.

“Eren.”

The whispered snarl of his name sounds so close to his ear that the boy yelps in a muffled whimper. Looking around the dark room, there is no one present, and though the hairs on his body are raised and the temperature of the room has dropped; his mind must’ve played tricks on him.   
Glancing down at the book on his lap shows the beast once more contained underneath the bed, its yellow gaze focused on the grandmother above him rather than on Eren. But his teeth are still bared, his tongue still slithered from his grinning mouth, his coat still sharp, pitch-black. Raven.

“Eren.”

This time around Eren knows he isn’t  imagining it and he stares at the door across from him.

It’s Levi’s voice, a whisper with the tone of a devil out to beckon his prey.   
Putting two and two together, his voice must’ve sounded so near because he’s made sure his lips are close to the crack between door and wall.

If this is done on purpose or not, he’s not sure. Whichever it is, it feels inappropriately intimate and it makes his body shudder in trepidation. It’s not a friendly atmosphere that surrounds this man and even with the closed door between them, the room becomes heavy, darker, colder.

Refusing to reply and not caring if Levi knows he’s awake, the boy closes his book and places it back in the drawer. 

Leaving the light on for the rest of the night, Eren’s sick to his stomach when it takes nearly an hour before the sound of footsteps meets his ears as Levi finally creeps away from the bedroom door.

* * *

The next day Eren decides to get out of this gloomy place. 

Putting on his only sweatshirt alongside his thickest pair of jeans, Eren knows he isn’t dressed ideally for a walk through a forest that had suffered through rain and heavy winds for an entire day. However, anything beats sitting in this room which has failed at making him feel at ease thanks to the ghoulish creature living with him.

When downstairs, Eren’s skin prickles when noticing Levi standing in the kitchen. His back is turned to him, head dipped to reveal the nape of his slender neck. Eren knows the man heard him not only because the stairs moan louder than an overpaid hooker but as well because he’s frozen in place.   
Levi's elbows stick out, likely because he’d been washing a plate or glass as Eren knows there’s a sink in front of him.

Holding on to the polished handrail next to him, Eren remains halted on the second-to-last step of the staircase. He’s not sure if he should move quite yet, something about the frozen imagery preventing him from breaking the pause.

It takes a few stretched out seconds before the creature’s head moves as it goes to peek over its shoulder at Eren.

Eren is reminded of the wolf.

“Breakfast?” The gravelly voice asks and Eren’s throat runs dry.

It’s a friendly suggestion. He’s asking him if he wants to eat. That’s good, right?   
But it lacks honesty. It’s spoken too quietly, the knowledge of him having stood at Eren’s bedroom door for an entire hour hangs between them like a rotten stench.

It’s ruined everything.

It’s revealed shuddersome intentions.

Shaking his head, Eren steps down slowly, glancing at the hallway, dark as ever.

“I’m...” He starts, trying to swallow down the itch in his throat but there’s not a drop of saliva to soothe the ache within.   
Glancing back at Levi shows him still leering at him from over his shoulder, mouth hidden behind it, he hasn’t moved an inch. Eren wonders if he’s grinning. Wonders if his teeth are dripping. If his tongue is red.

“-going for a walk.” Eren concludes, slowly starting to pace towards the hallway though he can’t for the life of him let go of Levi’s eyes. 

Don’t look away from a predator, ever.  Looking away isn’t an option. Look away and you’re done. Look away and it’ll move closer . It’ll eat your face.

The boy’s body shivers when the man turns his attention back to in front of him, and his elbows move as he continues doing dishes.

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

It sounds almost menacing, like Levi knows something Eren doesn’t and is only hinting at it. Mocking his lack of knowledge of the local woods.

Though Eren doesn’t want to peek behind him at the man, the coal-black hallway in front of him makes him pause with a hand on the doorpost. The length of it seems to stretch on forever, but as his eyes adjust to the dark, in the distance he can see a sliver of sunlight peeking from underneath the front-door.

“Yeah.” The boy  murmurs , anything beats hanging around in this place with this thing.

“Be careful, then.” Levi speaks softly but Eren could swear he can hear a smile in his voice. It urges him to glance over at the man, but he doesn’t dare. He just wants fresh air and for the first time since what had happened to his parents, he craves some sunlight.

As he steps into the hallway, making way towards the front-door which seems to take him hours, Eren can feel his lungs expand; grateful to be leaving this suffocating construction.

Opening the door reveals to him sunlight so bright it hurts his eyes, pierces his skull with a throbbing that lasts for only a few seconds before his pupils adjust. Even his ears seem to pop as the sound of vibrancy, of life, meets them. Tweeting birds, chirping crickets and rustling leaves all carried along on a breeze that smells of late-summer.

Somehow he expects Levi to appear behind him, slamming the door shut in his face, drag him back inside, onto the floor, devour him, eat his face.

But his life isn’t a fairytale, not even the lugubrious kind, and he soon enough finds himself walking between trees and bushes, on dirt and mud, underneath branches and clouds.

* * *

Walking for hours, Eren’s exhausted but feels more alive than he has in ages. His mind is clear, awakened by oxygen and by the strain of traveling uphill on a path of mud and rocks. With his brain having to put effort into calculating where to place his feet if he doesn’t desire to topple down and break a bone, the sensation of working towards a goal, a fulfillment, embraces him reassuringly.

Sneakers drenched by the sludge and dirt, Eren’s toes are freezing, yet he doesn’t stop. Even when sweat stings his eyes, he doesn’t stop. When gray clouds obstruct his vision, when thunder rumbles and rain starts to pour from the heavens, he does not stop.   
He keeps walking, by now completely lost, for as long as his body may allow it.

And there’s the annoying part, the issue at hand.

Eren hasn’t had a proper meal for various days now and his muscles ache. His blood-pressure is only kept going by adrenaline as he forces his heart to beat in overdrive to keep him standing.   
Though he can feel himself grow light-headed after having walked for what seems like the entire day; Eren keeps going.

As the forest grows more dense, darker, the path underneath his feet budging for branches, wet grass and slippery leaves, Eren’s lungs grow tight.   
His throat is dry, inhaling starts to feel like he’s swallowing dust and the boy is forced to stop moving. His hand reaches out, touching a nearby tree, digging his fingers into the bark as he places a palm against his throat.

He coughs. His lungs sting, his chest aches. He looks down, expecting to see that knife back in his chest but it is not there. Instead he just meets the sight of water pooling at his ankles, his surroundings so dark that it seems like he’s standing in tar. Lifting a foot assures him it is plain mud.   
The rain clattering upon the earth is deafening and as he gasps for breath, all that follows is a gulp of water.

Eren sputters. He pushes off the tree, turning around. He has to return home.

Home.

Yeah.

He came from there, didn’t he? It’s pitch-black in front of him but it’s there, right? Home?

This cabin, it’s inhabitant, it was all a nightmare. He must’ve been sleepwalking again and here he is, out in a fucking storm, choking on rain and constricting lungs.   
Home. His mother must be worried sick over him.

Stumbling downhill, feet slipping every few seconds as more rain than solid ground seems to carry him along, Eren coughs again. And again. Until he has to stop.

He can’t breathe.

The wind whips his wet hair into his face, into his mouth. The rain is icy as it hits his skin, stinging him. Nipping. And as his body seems to freeze, his joints seem to stiffen, Eren bends over double with the intensity of him hacking.   
With each shallow inhale, Eren smells dirt, a stench of rotten flora. He can taste the decomposition on his tongue as it protrudes with the ferocity of his coughing. 

He can’t breathe.

He needs to get home. He needs to get help.

Staggering farther down the path that has become invisible underneath the curtain of rain and the veil of coal clouds above swallowing any and all daylight, Eren wheezes.   
Coughs.   
Wheezes.   
Coughs.

Until his inhales produce a rattling sound that shakes his bones.

The vibration in the back of his mouth continues to produce a deeper and deeper sound with every breath he tries to suck in. And it’s then when he realizes it’s not his breathing he’s hearing through the wind and thunder.

Blinking away rain from his lashes, Eren looks around. 

The sound continues. Humming, becoming louder. Getting closer. Until it’s a rumble.

A deep, ominous rumble he can’t place.

He can’t recognize because he’s never heard anything like it in his life.

Halting. Looking around again. Eren spots the source.

A pair of yellow eyes observe him from the pitch-black that surrounds him.    
It snarls at him. Growls. It’s growling. The sound. A threatening hum.

Teeth flash. A hiss as it exhales, revealing its red tongue.

Eren inhales shakily, reminding himself of home, allowing him to start moving again. His knees are weak, want to buck under his weight.   
His shoulder impacts with a tree and after a plain hiss at the pain, Eren reaches out his hands in front of him to navigate.

The dark is entirely all-consuming, crawling up from the tips of his fingers to his wrists and up, up, up until Eren can’t see his own arms any longer.

Thin branches whip into his face, though they could be claws for all he knows. He can’t tell. He can’t breathe. He has to keep going.

Glancing to his left shows the yellow eyes, following him at an even pace, a distance that has yet to be closed in upon. Eren can make out the hump in its back, shoulders higher than its head, rolling with its leisure pace. It breathes heavily, hissing, rumbling, creating clipped beginnings of barks that sound like distant human laughter.

Is it human?

Certainly not.

He can’t breathe.

Home.

Eren picks up his pace, ignoring how his body screams for him to give in and lay down. Surrender. Get eaten. Get devoured, consumed. Let it take you. Let it drag you into the dark only this beast seems capable of navigating in.

He trips. He coughs. He gets back up. Eren runs, pants, he can’t breathe. Runs and trips. Mud pulls him down, sucks him into the forest earth. Swallows him along the rotten fruits fallen from rained upon trees. He keeps going.

The faster he moves, the slower he goes. He’s running, he knows he is. And yet the creature stays with him, strolling slow, steady.

Meticulous.

Hunter. Killer.

“Leave me.” Eren intends to shout, but his voice is a mere crackle, like firewood. It breaks before a word is formed. Ruined.

“Please.” He tries again. Fails. But keeps going.

He can’t breathe.

He slips. Tumbles down forever. His limbs flail as he rolls down a hill. A hill he can see, albeit distorted by the velocity of his fall. 

And then the movement halts. A crack setting its end.

Eren shouts. Lungs full of air, the endless rumble gone. Reaching for his leg, Eren hisses at the pain when moving, falling back down.

It’s broken. 

The trees tower over him, but he can see them. The rain falls upon him, but it’s soft and no longer freezing. The dark, though reduced, is still present around him until he looks up towards the top of the hill he’d fallen from.

It stares down at him. Yellow eyes, pointy ears, shiny black coat. Its teeth are no longer on display, as if it lost motivation when Eren tumbled down a mud-slide that it does not desire to descend.   
When the creature turns away, disappearing from sight, the darkness is drained with it and though the skies remain grey, daytime returns.

It’s still day...

There’s no home to return to.

But he can breathe.

Eren inhales, closing his eyes as his body makes hard work of numbing the pain in his broken leg.

He passes out.

* * *

Memories of what had happened before he’d slipped and fallen come back to Eren at a rapid pace.

He woke up minutes ago, his body clean, wearing pajamas he’s never seen before, his left leg propped up on a pillow, plaster case around it.

Drowsily he takes in his surroundings, recognizing his new bedroom within seconds. The cotton sensation in his mind and mouth inform him he must have been given some medication, likely painkillers, though he does not remember having been conscious between breaking his leg and waking up here.

Eren spends the next minutes shoving away the recollection of what he’d gone through in the forest and instead tries to recall anything that’d prove to him he’d taken a shower, had changed, and taken drugs himself.   
He tries –fails- at convincing himself he’d done these things to himself, that they’d not been done by someone else. By him. By-

Speak of the devil- a knock resounds at his bedroom door and he tenses when the door-handle is pushed down.   
However, his dread makes room for marginal relief when seeing Erwin enter the room, carrying a tray of food.

“Oh, sorry to wake you.” He whispers when looking up from the plate he’s balancing.

“I was awake.” Eren mumbles, oddly eager to speak to this man who seems to bring sunlight inside with him. He’s the friendly one.

“Well, you’re on some heavy painkillers so it’s best to just get back to sleep as soon as you can. It’s the best remedy, you know?”

“Heavy painkillers?” 

Erwin glances at him after he’s placed the tray on the bedside-table.

“Sleep.”

“Oh.” The boy dumbly mutters, oddly intrigued when Erwin smiles at him, unmoving, for seconds, before his face drops.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” His deep voice says, though the frown on his face is worried.

Eren’s heart skips a beat, narrowing his eyes at the words he remembers having been pronounced before by Levi. The short one. The creepy one.

“What do you mean?” Eren asks carefully, observing the blond stranger adjust the cuffs of his shirt.

The question doesn’t seem to reach him for a while before he blinks up at the boy.

“What?”

“You said I’m not supposed to be here. What do you mean?”

Erwin frowns, he appears legitimately confused at the boy’s words, as if he’d spoken in a foreign tongue.

“No, I didn’t?” The friendly one assures.

“Are you feeling alright?” He adds, stepping towards Eren, reaching out the back of his hand as he goes to check the kid’s forehead.

Eren stirs and with it the man freezes. His arm lowers.

“Just try to rest a little, Eren.” He pronounces his name in a whisper and Eren can feel his eyelids grow heavy as he sinks back into the bed.

Watching Erwin step towards the door, his vision shudders, shadows creeping into the corners of the room as sleep nears.   
At the entrance, the man looks at him over his shoulder.

“Be careful, next time, Eren.”

The door slowly closes, his face pressed into the crack between the door and wall, ensuring his voice to carry inside.

“There’s been wolves spotted in this forest.”


	4. Red Cars

T he fact that he’s stuck inside with a broken leg preventing him to move freely doesn’t come to Eren until the dosage of painkillers is lowered around two days after the accident.

He spends hours sitting on a chair at his window, staring out onto the backyard underneath, at the car that never moves from its spot.

His mind, after the abundance of dreamless sleeps and the lack of Levi’s presence, seems clearer than it’d been the first three days in this place.   
Eren appreciates the clarity, for once, no longer desiring the toxic numbing state his brain often finds itself in. These hallucinations he’s been having, they’re impossible to separate from what is true –what is real- in the moment itself. And though they’d dramatically increased in severity and authenticity since he’d stepped inside of this house, Eren is not a stranger to them.

He knows it’s his mind playing tricks on him. He’s very much aware of this, yet, the dread of ‘what if it’s true?’ weighs on him heavily. 

It doesn’t help that the boy hasn’t a clue as to what triggers these episodes nor what to do about them.

His memories are tainted, he’s unsure of what had happened in his life and in his mind.

The wolf... certainly an illusion.   
Levi, not so much.

The atmosphere surrounding Levi; Eren’s not certain.

Exhaling softly, Eren revels in the silence of his brain. At last, no pressing hum, no moving shadows, no scent of sulfur, no taste of copper. Nothing. Everything’s calm and quiet.   
Looking down at his book, he opens to a random page, taking in the image of a sleeping Snow White being kissed by her nameless prince. The man is handsome, tall, blond, blue eyes, warm and deep voice.

Familiar to Erwin who calls his name from behind the door.

“Come in.” Eren says, glancing out the window and watching the door open in the glass’ reflection.

He jumps up in his seat when seeing Levi enter and turning around swiftly proves his eyes hadn’t played tricks on him either.

Levi meets his gaze, carrying a tray of food. He scowls.

“What?”

Eren remains quiet, his mouth too dry and jaws too tense to be able to form any words. The hum returns.

He places the food on Eren’s desk, eying the pile of folded clothes on top of it.

“What kind of closet would you like?” Levi asks, reaching out and placing the tips of his long, bony fingers on top of the sweater Eren had been wearing in the forest.  It’s been washed, not a spot or stain left on it, like it all didn’t even happen to begin with.

His leg says otherwise.

Sensing the warmth in the room, the sunlight beaming through the window, warming the back of his neck, the lack of atmospheric weight pressing down on him, Eren wonders if he’d seen this man in a wrongful manner because of his own mind.

Regardless of the distant humming in his ears, nothing else seems disturbing, not even the man’s peculiarly slow movement s .

“Low one with drawers? Tall one with doors?” Levi continues, turning around to face him.

Regardless of the lack of dread that normally accompanies the man, Eren remains apprehensive, preventing him from speaking. He fears that one word will switch around his world again. One word and this creature will grow paler, sharper, sinister.

Levi clacks his tongue, rolls his eyes as he leans back against the desk. It’s human behavior. So common, harmless. It’s these welcoming aspects that prevent Eren from growing annoyed like he’d use to whenever people were rude to him.   
A chip on his shoulder used to accompany Eren, but in this place, his demeanor is compressed into uncertainty.

“Fine, I’ll pick.” The man says in a petulant tone before his eyes roam over Eren’s leg. He remains quiet for minutes and Eren eyes him carefully, expecting him to grow black fur and long teeth.

Yet, nothing happens.

“You sure you don’t want a bucket to piss in? Must be annoying to hobble to the bathroom with that leg of yours.”

Eren blinks, astounded at the suggestion. Shocked at the normalcy of his crude question.

“I- … no. I don’t.” The boy replies, almost offended this specimen would expect him to relieve himself in a bucket and have someone else carry it to the toilet for him. Disgusting.

“Suit yourself.” Levi shrugs, glancing away before pushing off the desk and heading to the exit.

Even when leaving the room, though the hallway remains eerily dark, the man doesn’t pe e k at him over his shoulder, doesn’t press his lips against the crack in the door to whisper at him, and doesn’t linger around for an hour without moving an inch.

Levi entered, spoke to him, and left.

Like a normal scenario.

A normal scene received and processed correctly by a calm mind.

Eren exhales when listening to Levi jog down the staircase, follows him mentally through the house as he is whistling, letting doors fall shut behind him loudly.   
Leaning back on the window-sill, he stares down, and sure enough the whistling man walks out the house into the garden beneath.

His pace is chopped. As if his knees click shut with every other step and he has to force them to unlock. His vision shudders and Eren recognizes the pressing vibration in his ears. 

Rubbing his eyes violently, Eren looks back down, expecting to see Levi looking up at him. Or worse, have him  face to face with him at the window.

But there’s nothing. 

Just a backyard and a car that never moves.

* * *

The closet is as ugly as the rest of the house.   
It’s tall and made of darkly colored wood, with two doors that have ivy carved into them, curling intricately. Its short feet are shaped into the form of an animal’s paws. Letting his eyes roam back upwards, spotting the wooden lion’s head on top of it, surrounded by flowers and leaves, Eren assumes the feet as well belong to a lion. One would appreciate the handy-work if it weren’t for the atrocious appearance of it. Who in their right mind would add details of a predatory animal in a plain closet?

“From the garage.” Erwin says, exhaling heavily after he’d dragged it up the staircase on his own.

“It’s not the prettiest, but it’s spacious.” The main agrees with Eren’s unpronounced judgement. He opens the doors which creak loudly at being manipulated after god-knows-how-long and the depth of it is rather impressive.

As Eren hands him articles of clothing one by one, Erwin places them on clothes hangers before putting them inside of the closet. It’s a welcoming slow pace of happenings to the boy who notices that he feels a lot more comfortable around the friendly one than the creature.

Though he wants to ask Erwin what he thinks about Levi, wants to beg him to stay around and never leave this house as long as his supposed guardian is here, Eren’s lips remain sealed.   
It’s too early. He’s been here for only a week, though it feels like he’s been stuck in this place for decades; his body aches as if it aged fifty years.

“You should try to eat a little more, you know?” The blond murmurs as he shuts the closet doors, the groaning of them nearly drowning out his words.

Eren looks up from his seat at him. Though he towers over him in this proximity, his features remain relaxed, open, friendly. Welcoming.

“I don’t like the kitchen.” Eren admits, though it’s only a hint of what he really thinks of this house.

“Well, allow me to bring you your dinner every evening then.”

It sounds welcoming, to have Erwin serve him his food. They both seem to ignore the fact that food has been brought to Eren before and he’s still skipped meals. Because of the pressure around him, pushing down his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, his neck.

If he’d tell him, would he believe?

Though the boy opens his mouth to ask Erwin if he gets any weird vibes from being around here, the man turns around.

Eren’s teeth clack with the force in which he snaps his jaws shut. Watching Erwin exit the bedroom, disappearing into that damned black hallway, his body shudders as warmth seeps back into it.

He’d been cold without noticing.

* * *

With the front-door still located across the foot-end of his bed, Eren’s almost forced to stare at the closet against the wall to his left as he lays down on his side. His hands placed underneath his cheek, Eren tries to fall asleep, but his eyes keep opening up, watching the new piece of furniture.

He expects it to open. To creak and groan. He fears yellow eyes will leer at him from ajar doors. He dreads picking out clothes, for there might be something hidden beyond the layers of fabric, ready to reach out and pull him inside the spacious closet.

Yet, no such thing happens.

The room is deadly quiet, the weather outside still, the only buzz in his ears coming from the nightlamp that has seen better days and likely will soon break, going by its static zooming.

And that’s it. There’s no footsteps downstairs or in the hallway, no voices mumbling, no Levi whistling or stairs creaking. The room feels light, no musty smells, no dusty taste lingering on his tongue.   
There’s nothing.

It’s so quiet.

So quiet it makes Eren incredibly nervous because a single sound would make him jump out of his own skin.   
The day had been uneventful, so calm and normal that it again puts him on edge.

Like a calm before a storm. Eren asks himself what will happen next. Something’s got to give. Something has to break apart from this unfamiliar scenario. The routine had been anything but relaxing, anything but regular.

Where is the wolf? Where is Levi? Where is the humming in his ears?

He lays awake for hours.

Eren eventually catches sleep, dozing off, dreaming of footsteps shuffling at his bedroom-door.

* * *

It’s remarkable how easily you tend to forget the bad things when you’ve been granted peace of mind for plenty of days.

A week has passed. A week of sitting in his room, occasionally hobbling to the bathroom. A week of having Erwin bring him breakfast and dinner, sometimes a snack, always smiling and up for a friendly yet superficial chat.   
Life’s normalcy has returned, allowing Eren’s mind to chew and mourn on the loss of his parents, no longer distracted by eerie occurrences.

Staring out the window, Eren observes the car. Red, paint flaking to reveal rust on some parts, windows dusty, leaves on the roof. It hasn’t been moved in ages, yet Eren remembers it looking better a mere week ago. Is it even the same car?

“Is that your car?” He asks.

Erwin pauses folding the boy’s freshly washed clothes, putting them down on the desk before joining him at the window.   
His body-heat doesn’t reach Eren.

Leaning his hands on the window-sill, Erwin glances down with him. Eren takes note of the dirt under his fingernails, it’s a first. It makes Eren wonder what kind of job he works, or if he even leaves this place to begin with. What had he been doing today to have this amount of filth underneath the edges of his nails?

“What car?” Erwin mutters, urging the boy to take another look, seeing the same thing he had before; a beat-up vehicle.

“Over there, the red one.” Eren frowns, pointing, tip of his finger placed against the glass. 

“Okay, really funny, Eren.” The man chuckles, going to turn away. 

Eren’s skin prickles with the beginnings of a cold sweat. Is he hallucinating? It’s clear as day, the car, it’s been there from the start.

The boy taps the window, heart beating fast at the doubt he experiences within himself.

“No, really, there’s a car. It’s been there since I got here. It’s a red mustang, an old one, I know it. My dad had the same one.” Eren’s throat closes and his body freezes when a hand falls heavily on his shoulder.

“Eren.” Erwin whispers.

“Maybe go and rest a little. You must be tired.”

“I’m not, though.” Eren assures, frowning as he looks up behind him to meet the man’s gaze.

“Come on, let me help you to bed.”

Without much of a choice, Eren’s pulled up from the chair carefully, cold hands clasped underneath his arms. Together they walk towards his bed on which Erwin helps him sit down carefully.

Though his skin is clammy, ears ringing, heart pounding and throat dry, Eren allows Erwin to lower himself on one knee in front of him. He goes as far as to allow the man to clasp both of his trembling hands between his large ones.

“You need to take better care of yourself.” The man murmurs, eyes locked onto his.

“Yeah”.

“You need to rest more.”

“Yeah.”

“Eat more.”

Eren nods.

“More than anything. You need to realize that that car doesn’t belong here.”

Eren watches Erwin tower over him as he stands back up, his still-trembling hands slipping from his cold clasp. The man’s face is different. It’s wrong. Off. His eyebrows are too thin. His face too square. Lips too stiff and eyes too light.   
And when the buzzing returns, Eren grows short of breath.

Erwin turns around, going to leave the bedroom at a painfully slow pace and it’s only when he opens the door that Eren catches the silhouette of a short, sharp, angled man slipping outside with Erwin.

How long had Levi been in here? When had he come in? Where had he been standing?

Eren glances around the room, the corners dark enough for peculiar creatures to hide in the shadows.

How can he even be sure no one’s in here with him now?

But when the bedroom door clicks shut behind the duo, the sun breaks through clouds, illuminating the room to reveal nothing but furniture and dust, warming the floorboards and the icy state of Eren’s skin.


	5. Mouth Corners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some proper Levi and Eren interaction ;)

While ‘getting used to it’ isn’t the correct manner to describe Eren’s coping with this house, it comes marginally close to it.   
He is adjusting to the days becoming brighter, quieter. He appreciates the hint of safety in his room when the door is locked and sunlight beams inside. Eren’s even grateful for the warm food brought to him only by Erwin and though the man at times acts oddly –as if infected by the creature living alongside them- he's yet to frighten the life out of him.

Yet, everything comes with a price and as Eren’s days become more bland, his nights are anything but.

Lying in bed, surrounded by the dark of the night, Eren regrets having urged Erwin to ‘please, please, fix the lights in the hallway upstairs.’. After all, it causes him to add solidity to the footsteps he keeps hearing at his bedroom door most nights. As dull as the hallway light is, it still succeeds in seeping like thick liquid from underneath the crack of the door. Two black blotches accompanying the light, two feet blocking light as they shuffle lazily from left to right and back.

Eren stares at the door, wide-eyed, so apprehensive to blink that his eyes are starting to sting at the lack of moisture in them. Each time the steps pause in the middle of the doorway, Eren holds his breath; expecting a knock, expecting it to squat down, lay its face onto the floor to peek inside, eagerly.  Lap.  Hungrily.

He shivers.

Shudders.

Whom- or whatever is out there halts in its tracks. Remains still, frozen, causing Eren to believe it might’ve noticed he’s awake.   
Though, would it care? With how it drags its feet, stumbles against walls, it doesn’t seem worried about keeping quiet.   
Eren, by now, knows its pattern. It’s been out in the hallway countless of nights now. It’s paused before, it’s stood still for hours before. Eren’s experienced it all.    
At times it leaves after minutes. Other times it stays until the morning sun starts to creep into dawn.

The amount to how long it remains is what is worrisome more than anything. What human being can stand frozen for five hours?

The closet-door creaks.

Eren sits up with a start, inhaling in a gasp, whipping his head to face the closet across the room.

The door’s ajar.

Staring at it for a solid minute, after it fails to make a sound or move, Eren glances back at the door.   
The feet are gone. A split second later; the hallway light turns off.

Hastily he turns on the bedside lamp only to have it give out with a pop;  cocooning him back into darkness.

Shit.

His body refuses to get up, urges him to not reach for his crutches to hobble towards the light-switch next to the bedroom door... It’s too far away. Whatever’s under his bed, in the closet, in the hallway, in every nook and cranny of this pitch-black room will get him before he can turn on the light.

Keeping quiet, chest tight as he barely dares to breathe, Eren listens for something, anything. The full moon allows some light to slither through the thin glass of the window, between half-opened curtains. Eren glances at the shadows of branches dancing on the single sliver of illumination on the floorboards. They’re like long, bony fingers. Brushing over his sweatshirt days ago. When he’d last seen him.

They tick, tick, tick against the window.

Then scrape over wood. Nails dragging, intentionally scratching at a slow, elongated pace that makes the boy’s spine shiver.   
Eren grows tenser, lungs tighter, as he looks around the room carefully. Trying to locate where the sound is coming from. From the floor? The walls? The ceiling? Everything’s made of damn wood.   
The door? Under his bed?

He bites away his fear and closes his eyes, focusing on his hearing.

Something is scratching. Lightly, in quick and short succession now. It gets louder. Nearer. Louder. Like picking paint off a wall. Like peeling dead skin off blisters. Like prodding the inside of his skull, trying to dig its way out.

Or in.

Eren knows where it’s coming from.

His eyes open. He glances at the door, hallway light still turned off. Then he gazes at the closet to his left. The closet from which inside of it, something is scraping its nails over its wooden interior.

With his vision solely focused on the piece of furniture, tunnel-vision is acquired. His surroundings are pitch-black, the small amount of moonlight making work of illuminating the closet; like a piece of art in a museum, drawing everyone’s attention to it as the door opens slowly. Creaking, groaning, and...

No matter how ugly.   
No matter how it makes your stomach turn.

You have to look at it.

You have to.

The scratching grows louder, more rapid in its pace; impatient, ominously eager to get out. The hum return with a vengeance, the pressure on Eren’s ears so severe he has to cup them.   
Grimacing, clenching his teeth, Eren tries his best not to squeeze his eyes shut when the dragging grows so loud it feels like he’s being rattled from the inside out, like claws are picking out his brain through his ears, dragging, pulling, tugging, ripping, ruining.

“Leave me alone.” Eren hisses through his teeth, taking shuddering breaths, groaning when a sharp ringing accompanies the buzz. A repetitive, shrill sound, that goes on and on and on like a ringing telephone in the center of his skull before  it stops.

Abruptly.

A distant ‘hello’ meets the boy’s ears.

Eren, in newfound silence, opens his eyes. The closet is closed, there’s no noise.   
Lowering his hands from his ears, the boy listens carefully, again hearing the distant murmur of a voice –Levi's voice- which speaks, pauses, speaks.

A phone conversation?

There’s a telephone in this house?

Trepidation forgotten, the boy reaches for his crutches before getting out of bed hesitantly. His pace is slow, careful to not have the plaster around his leg thump onto the floor beneath.   
Even turning the key in its lock is loud and he makes sure to halt his movements for a solid minute before opening the bedroom door.

Peeking into the hallway, Eren’s met by complete darkness to his left, where he knows the staircase is. To his right, however, accompanying the voice; is a single door left ajar, a yellow glow seeping from it.

Wavering momentarily, Eren questions his curiosity. He asks himself whether it’s worth the risk and if anything, what sort of risk is there to begin with?   
No matter Levi’s creepy nature, he’s yet to hurt him once. He hasn’t touched him, hasn’t even raised his voice at him. If anything he’s been quite flat.

However still, just because someone isn’t reaping the fruit as of yet, doesn’t mean they’re not planning to eventually.

Eren curls up his nose , corners of his mouth pulling down at comparing himself to a piece of fruit ready for the picking. He’s never been this paranoid before. Granted, he’s never met someone quite as suspicious as Levi before either.

Swallowing down his nausea, he perks his head, listening for the telling buzz or hum. Watching for yellow eyes or bony fingers.   
Nothing.

Silence, except for the murmur of Levi’s voice as Eren assumes he’s still on the phone.

Inching through the hallway, Eren options to softly lay down his crutches, the bottoms of which do not have a rubber cover and hence tend to noisily scrape over the wooden floorboards if he doesn’t lift them properly.   
Spreading both arms, Eren manages to lay his palms flat against opposing walls, steadying his balance as he creeps closer towards the door in front of him.

Closer. And closer. Levi’s voice turning from a murmur to strings of mumbled words, articulated lazily under his breath. Eren would appreciate the lilt to it, the hoarseness of it, if it weren’t for how uncomfortable he feels around the creature.

Making sure to lean against the wall to his right as he nears the door which is left ajar with light seeping through; light that could betray the boy’s presence, Eren inhales deeply.   
With body and feet avoiding the yellow glow on the floorboards, Eren stands as close to the door as possible, listening... No, eavesdropping.

“No.” Is what  Levi  says and when focusing Eren can catch the chirp of a female voice coming from the phone inside. She speaks fast but other than that Eren can’t tell what she’s saying or feeling.

“Yes, I’m sure.”  The man  mumbles and the boy believes he can hear him suppress a sigh. He sounds bored, or annoyed, whichever it is, it doesn’t carry an eerie tone with it.

“No, you don’t have to.”

The voice on the phone gets louder, speaks faster and Eren can’t stop himself from leaning forward slightly on his uninjured leg to peek inside.

Levi is seated at a desk, one hand holding the phone against his ear while the other furiously massages his right temple. A frown lays upon his features and Eren appreciates the emotion shown. Human. He is human. He needs to remind himself of this. It’s his illusions that make this specimen seem  s o eerie. His parents chose him, after all. They’d never leave Eren with a dangerous creature. Even if mentioned creature was their last choice.

He’d been an option nonetheless.

"He’s fine.” Levi assures before he pulls away the receiver from his ear, staring at it with a scowl as the voice only gets louder.   
Eren watches him try to interrupt the person on the other line multiple times before he rubs his eyes with a groan.

“No, I do not want you to drive seven hours to bring us lasagna, mother.” Levi hisses as he holds the phone against his lips though doesn’t have it placed against his ear. After this he hangs up, slamming down the object with force though not hard enough to unintentionally break  it .

Eren watches him bury his face in his hands, fingernails scratching in his hair.

The boy’s lungs are open, freed from the constraints of permanent anxiety. The conversation he overheard was more than welcome. Just the mere knowledge of this man having a mother he talks to, a mother who wants to bring him home-made dishes, all such normal aspects of a family. Even if, perhaps, a small one, not unlike Eren’s.

Nothing is amiss. Just his mind. All in his head and-

“Come in, Eren.”

The teenager jolts back, almost tripping though he can catch himself by leaning against the wall behind him.    
When hearing a chair being scooted over wooden boards, he considers running, glancing in the direction where he’d left his crutches but they’re so far away they’ve been swallowed by the dark. There’s no time. His heart pounds. He shouldn’t have eavesdropped.

“Hey.” Eren jolts once more at Levi’s voice which –though soft- is a lot closer than before. He finds the man peeking around the door he’s holding slightly more opened than it had been.

Though appearing tired, with bags under his half-lid eyes, there’s no  menacing vibe to him.

They stare at each other for a while before the man tuts once.

“I said come in.” He repeats himself, his tone slightly annoyed as he turns back around and walks towards his desk. Eren watches him sit down, the door opened wide; inviting him, though he remains apprehensive.

Is he in trouble?   
The idea of being in trouble is a lot more undesired than it had been in the past around other people. Even before the death of his parents, Eren had been a stubborn kid, rebellious at times though he kept it in check. However still, tell him to do something in a slightly off manner and he’ll make sure to deliver the opposite.

Perhaps it’s the curse of being an adolescent.

Yet, that issue has passed. He’s in no way planning to act up around Levi.

Staring at the man, Eren waits for any sound, sight, or even smell, anything to betray the inclination of danger. Yet, nothing conjures, nothing follows and he carefully hobbles inside.

Somewhat expecting Levi to tell him to close the door behind him, Eren pauses once past the entrance. But yet again, Levi doesn’t do or say anything suspicious. He just waits for  him, staring, mouth hidden behind  hands of which the fingers are steepled.

Holding back the excuse of ‘I didn’t mean to listen in on you’ because first of all; it’s a lie and Levi doesn’t look like someone you’d be able to lie to, and second of all; because his throat is so dry that even swallowing hurts, Eren limps closer.

Similar to when he’d spoken to Levi in the kitchen that first time, Eren holds on to the back of the chair, standing behind it intentionally, only slightly soothed by the knowledge that the exit is right behind him rather than past Levi like the staircase had been back then.

Grey eyes roam over his body, pausing at the boy’s death grip on the backrest.

“Sit down, I don’t bite.” 

Eren cocks his head at the comment. It’s a very normal expression to word, there’s nothing weird about it. Certainly not. Sucking back the desire to grow paranoid, Eren carefully sits down on the hard, wooden seat across the desk from Levi. 

Once more they stare at each other.

“How long were you listening for?” 

A peculiar question, something that raises suspicion in the teenager. Had Levi been discussing something he wasn’t supposed to hear? Or does he just appreciate privacy and despises the interference of a kid he hardly knows? Likely the second, though his brain teases the first assumption.

“The lasagna  part .” Eren dumbly states, wringing his hands together in his lap.

Levi cocks a single, well-shaped eyebrow. Eren wonders if he  plucks them or if they’re naturally thin. Though the shape of them isn’t masculine, it suits his face. Sharp.

“The lasagna part...” Levi repeats dryly, lowering his hands to the desk, folding fingers and leaning closer on his elbows.   
The desk is large, yet still Eren leans away from him when he hunches over the furniture.

He hates when he hunches.

Just reminds him of a predator, planning to pounce.

“Tell me, Eren, …" He starts, voice and intonation lazy, a string of words connected and under-pronounced. 

“... Do you like  lasagna ?” 

Eren frowns at the hint of a smirk on Levi’s lips. His tongue rolled on the l, squeezed between his white teeth on the s and n. His mouth is left slightly agape after the a... and though it should be eerie, Eren spots some form of flirtation in it.

His frown deepens and it causes Levi to scowl and lean back in his chair, creating space between them.

“Not a hard question.” The man murmurs, as if insulted that it’s taking Eren ages to reply to his simple question. Which it should... After all, the kid had been too busy staring at Levi’s lips, at his teeth of which the canines are sharper than he’d desire from a human being already this predatory-like.   
At least his tongue is pink rather than red.

“I- uhm. Yeah, I do. Like. Lasagna.” Eren’s reply is stiff and awkward and he feels his body flush when Levi scoffs, rubbing at his nose as he turns away, likely hiding amusement.

“Ah, me too.” The man shares after having composed himself within a few counts. As before, he again leans on his elbows, this time around placing his palms flat on the desk. Eren wonders about his body-language. He changes it up continuously rather than stand still completely like he’d done often.    
As Eren’s not good at interpreting other people’s intentions and has no clue as to how to read someone’s body other than instinctual, it makes him wonder if Levi’s perhaps intentionally influencing him without him noticing.

But, if so, for what outcome?

To fool him? Trick him? Or perhaps to put him at ease?

Regardless, the activeness of his entire being is a world of difference to the calculated and slow-paced ghoul Eren had observed these past weeks. Like there’s two of him.

“Okay.” Eren says.

“You’re not good at this, are you?” Levi asks him, drumming his fingers once before he rests his chin onto the palm of his hand, leaning slightly to the side, observing him.

“Not good at what?”

“This.” Levi clarifies, lifting his free hand and wiggling his index-finger between the two of them.

“Holding a conversation.” He adds further.

Glancing away momentarily, if only to take in his surroundings, Eren still suspects something to be off. But everything, again, appears normal. Nothing is askew, no sounds, no cold, no smells or the feeling of being watched from the corners of the dark office.   
Is he truly sitting here talking to this man in a normal fashion?

Is he dreaming?

Is he going to wake up in the forest with another broken leg?

“You look tasty.” Levi whispers.

Eren whips his head back to him, eyes wide, shocked, confused. He expects the man to lick his teeth at him, crawl over the desk at him in a manner that’d be anything but seductive and completely horrifying. But he hasn’t moved an inch, doesn’t seem to be planning on moving either, just observing Eren with a lazy gaze.

“Excuse me?” The boy throws back in a whisper, heart pounding.

“What?”

“What did you say?”

“That you’re not good at keeping a conversation?” Levi frowns at him and Eren sits stiffly in his chair.

A hallucination?

He pinches himself in the arm and Levi notices.

“You do that a lot.”

Following his gaze to his own arms, where thumb and the knuckle of his pointer-finger are still holding onto the tanned skin of his arm, Eren grimaces.

“I do?” 

“Yeah.”

Honestly, Eren hadn’t noticed himself doing this since he’d been a kid whose daydreams would often turn into daytime nightmares whilst sleepwalking. Has he started doing this again? Is this perhaps a way to tell when he’s starting to hallucinate?   
Blinking back up at Levi, he releases the grip he has on himself.

“I hadn’t noticed.” He admits, even with the ache where he’d squeezed, not sure if he’s dreaming or not.

For a few minutes they sit in an awkward silence where the man keeps watching him intently and Eren himself remains stiff and rigid on his seat, looking down at his hands.

They both jump when the phone rings.

“Jesus.” Levi curses under his breath and Eren has to hold back a huff of amusement to see this creature get startled by something.

“Well, I should take this. Chat with me some more in my office any time, Eren.” Levi says in a dismissive tone, hand upon the receiver as he waits for Eren to get up.

The boy nods, though doubts he’ll be acting upon his invitation any time soon and makes haste in hobbling out of his office.

As he picks up his crutches farther down the hallway, he can make out the word ‘lasagna’ once more being spoken by Levi; barking at the telephone.

The corners of his mouth curl up.


	6. Warm Knees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh the formatting errors

Hallucinations are harmless in itself. However, shit gets dangerous when it’s one in the morning and you’re about to jump out the window because the devil himself is stampeding towards you. 

Yet, he’s too late. Just when he’s about to jump down to safety, black arms embrace him and drag him back inside.   
Eren screams. 

He screams so hard that sleeping birds are woken in nearby trees; fluttering away. 

A clawed hand, bony long fingers, clasp around his open mouth, preventing him to utter anything but muffled gasps. No matter how he grasps, clings onto ink-black skin, the creature won’t let go, instead making work of dragging him over the floor, away from the window.   
The plaster cast on Eren’s leg scrapes over the floor as he stomps his free foot repeatedly, calling for help from anyone that might hear him. Even Levi. 

Clasped in the devil’s arms, his back pressed against its chest as it stumbles down together with him onto the floor, Eren tries to roll around to get out. But it’s strong, inhumanly strong, and he can’t get out. 

Not to mention, he cannot breathe. 

Changing his priorities, Eren settles for desiring to get some air rather than get out of its grip and hence he grabs the claw on his mouth with both of his hands; peeling, scratching, tugging.   
Until eventually he manages to open his mouth and bite down on the pitch-black skin of the devil’s palm. 

It hisses, into his ear, its breath hot. Eren flinches away from the proximity of the creature’s face, gaping at it from the corner of his eye as he screams once more against the skin between his teeth. 

Its eyes are yellow, its features razor sharp and pitch-black, its teeth white and long, sharp, its grin never disappearing. 

“Shhh” It hushes him, holding Eren closer and rocking him from side to side. But the boy knows better, he knows that the moment he ceases fighting, this demon will devour him whole. 

It’s only when, instead of growing tired, Eren’s lack of breathing causes him to hyperventilate, that the claw on his mouth slips away. 

Eren gasps, wheezes, grabs at his own throat, arching his body, not caring that the back of his head is pressed into the crook of the devil’s neck. He can’t breathe. He gasps, keeps gasping, nothing comes in. Like his lungs are shut off, they can’t expand, his throat is clogged. And his desire to breathe is so grand he hardly notices the creature laying him down onto the floor, one claw on Eren’s forehead as the other one is planted onto his stomach. 

“Breathe.” It speaks, its tone panicked yet its face remains grinning so widely that the corners of its mouth nearly reach its eyes. Eren stares at its face, whimpers, claws at his own throat, pats down his chest wanting to take out his lungs to grant them oxygen. His body is heavy, sinking through the floor and nothing but the demon’s claws register in his delusional brain. 

Delusional. 

Illusions. 

Is it... 

Through the haze of being half-conscious, Eren starts to pinch himself anywhere he can reach. 

“Breathe.” The devil repeats, brushing Eren’s hair from his forehead, its hands are cold. It feels good. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” It says, yet Eren barely catches its voice -let alone what it is saying-, too distorted and hoarse to hear through the rush of blood in his ears.   
The boy just reaches around, grabbing onto nothing, inhaling what feels like sand, tons and tons of sand building up in his throat and mouth until all he can do is choke.   
Turning on his side, Eren scrapes his throat repeatedly while a cold hand rubs between his shoulder blades. The creature seems to press black waste through his lungs, cold and thick, slimy, and when the boy hacks, all he can see is oily liquid splattered across floorboards. 

“Shhh.” It whispers once more as Eren takes his first breath in what had felt like hours. 

His voice is high-pitched as it wheezes through inhaling, the air cold on his teeth as he sucks it in as eagerly as an addict would consume their addiction. Sanity might be it for Eren. 

With oxygen comes clarity and though his ears are still buzzing, Eren’s vision grows brighter, clearer. 

He’s pulled backwards slowly, back against a chest, his head back on the shoulder as arms embrace him lightly. 

“Shhh.” It hushes him, less loud, its breath no longer searing hot. 

Closing his eyes, gasping still, Eren melts into the warmth around him. Regardless of the soothing temperature, he trembles at the stress he’d gone through, his body pumped full of adrenaline as it had fought for its life.   
Large, pale hands rest themselves upon the boy’s arms, thumbs brushing over skin as a deep voice keeps soothing him, hushing him, rocking him. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

Erwin. 

Opening his eyes, Eren glances at the man holding him, finding a face that belongs to Erwin, though shifts into that of the demon he’d seen before with every second heartbeat of his. Like a glitch in his surroundings, like the remains of a parallel universe trying to pull through to the real world. But it fails, and soon enough, as the boy’s trembling and breathing settles down, the only thing to be witnessed is Erwin’s calming features. 

No more eye-touching grin. No more teeth, or leering eyes. 

“Sorry.” Eren rasps, not sure why he’s apologizing, but he’s starting to tolerate this man and hence prefers to at least be in some shape or form polite to him. After all, he’d just helped him through an episode of... well, whatever that had been. 

“Have you had these in the past?” The man asks him after a moment of silence. 

Eren, scanning the floor for the ink he’d hacked up –and finding no trace of it- takes a while before replying. 

“Not this severely.” He admits and grows awkward when silence grows so heavy, he can hear the man breathing through his nose. Which reminds him he’s still in his arms. 

“Maybe I can call someone for you...” 

Eren knows what he means by this, knows he’s referring to a psychiatrist, someone who will pump him full of medication and put a stamp on him that labels him insane. Something he does not desire in this moment in life. The last thing he needs is a stigma to decrement his already low impression of himself. After all, as far as he can tell, the lower he feels the more intense these illusions become. 

It’s a spiral. 

All-consuming. Unbreakable. 

“No.” Eren murmurs simply, moving away until the arms around him fall down as Erwin gets up to help him onto his feet. He guides him to bed, sits him down and surprisingly lowers himself next to the boy. Their knees touch and Eren makes sure to pull his own away, growing nervous at the touch. 

“Fresh air might help you too. Just getting out some time.” Erwin suggests. 

“I don’t want to go out. There’s wolves out there.” 

A pause follows before Eren’s stomach clenches at Erwin’s next words. 

“Wolves? There’s no wolves in this area nor far around. Even foxes are rare.” 

Eren turns his head, watching the man’s profile, frowning, expecting him to turn to face him with an ominous grin on his features, a grin that’ll reach his eyes. 

“You...” The teenager starts, before curling up his nose at the tinge of a rotten smell. Eying the room shows nothing out of the ordinary except that the closet door is once more ajar... Yet, he can’t remember if he’d closed it or not... It keeps falling open at night. 

“... said that there’s been wolves spotted around here.” His voice is light, careful, like walking on eggshells, scared to trigger the monster that’s lingering around here. 

Though he keeps staring at Erwin’s profile, the man doesn’t move an inch. He sits still, staring out in front of him. Eren’s skin prickles at the prospect of having this man as well be lost in his hallucinations. Is he no longer the ‘friendly one’?   
Forcing himself to keep his eyes on him, Eren grows cold at how Erwin doesn’t blink, even his hair seems to have frozen in place, regardless of the lack of wind inside: he’s too unmoving. 

“Erwin...?” The boy tries, uncharacteristically having his nose prickle with tears. He’s so exhausted of this. It’s only been a few weeks and he feels ready to give up on everything and drown himself in a river nearby. 

The man doesn’t reply, just keeps staring out in front of him and when the boy follows his gaze, he can tell Erwin’s looking straight at the closet door which by now is opened wide, contrary to its double which remains shut. It’s dark inside of it. Pitch-black and though nothing can be perceived anything could be inside of it. 

“I should fix that.” 

His voice makes Eren jump. Yet, the spell is broken, Erwin is looking back at him, smiles and pats him on the shoulder. 

“Try to get some rest, Eren.” 

After watching him leave without another word, Eren gets up, hobbles over to the only chair in the room, disposing of it against the closet door he once more closes. 

“Stay closed.” He murmurs, frowning, though too frightened to carry an angry tone to his voice. 

For most of the night he lies awake, light turned on. 

* * *

Eren wakes with a headache, sun rays hitting him square in the face as he’d ripped open the curtains last night when going to jump out of the window   
Turning on his side and directing his attention to the closet, he’s displeased to note the door once more is ajar, his chair behind his desk. 

He grimaces. 

Showering for over fifteen minutes, broken leg awkwardly dangling outside the cubicle, Eren ponders over what to do about all of this. He can’t just keep living here, going more insane every single day. He’s going to have to call up those social workers, demand a different housing. Though his hallucinations will follow him, at least they might return to their mellow selves rather than the intense horrors he’s been experiencing since he’d arrived here. 

Hopping down the stairs, both hands on the balustrade, Eren smells warm food. More specifically; meat... bacon, perhaps.   
Peeking into the kitchen shows him Levi setting the table for two. 

He looks up at him, bored expression on his features, and blinks slowly. 

“You’re up early.” 

The teenager just nods, reminding himself of the phone conversation Levi had had with his mother a few days ago, something to reassure him that this thing is human. This creature staring at him with piercing light eyes; human. Sharp angles; human. 

“Want some breakfast?” 

Eren glances at the two plates, assuming one’s for Erwin, and naturally shakes his head. He’d rather not intrude on their shared moment, whatever they mean to one another; there’s still a chance Eren will get bombarded with questions by the both of them... Considering what Erwin had seen Eren go through last night. 

Levi follows his gaze. 

“Don’t worry about Erwin. He won’t be joining.” 

“Then why set the table for two?” Eren asks, narrowing his eyes at the peculiar behavior, or perhaps at his own paranoid way of thinking. 

Levi rolls his eyes lightly, adjusting the cutlery before turning around to head back to the stove on which a frying pan is placed. 

“I heard you stumble around. Call it wishful thinking.” He shares over his shoulder, giving the boy a once over –something he does often- before turning his attention back to the breakfast at hand. 

‘Wishful thinking?’ Eren repeats to himself. How would his company at the breakfast table be in any way desired? Is he being sarcastic? 

Not able to read him, Eren just stares dumbly at Levi’s back, considering telling him about the illusions. Would he care? Would he care as much as, or as close to, Erwin? 

“Sit.” Levi makes up the decision for him, not looking away from the teenager until he’s sitting down at the table. 

“Do you recall last night?” Levi asks in his typical low, monotonous voice, as he turns around with the frying pan.   
Eren leans back when bacon and eggs are scooped onto his plate, Levi’s next. 

Waiting for the man to sit down next to him, Eren ponders over the question more than the reply. After all, he does, in fact, recall last night. Yet, he does not remember Levi being around to be teasing this conversation to be set up. Then again... he’d been loud; screamed, stomped. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Explain it to me.” 

It’s not a question. It rubs Eren the wrong way; this man’s tone of voice, this demand, this aloof attitude as he eats like he hadn’t just commanded Eren to explain something this complex, this fearsome, this gut wrenching. 

Yet, his body’s heavy, as is his mind, and there’s been a sensation gnawing at him, no, an urge... An urge to vent, to pour away some of the weight he’s been carrying. 

“I hallucinated.” Eren mumbles, shoving a fork full of egg and bacon into his mouth. 

“About?” 

Playing with his food a little while chewing, Eren considers how to have someone else envision what he’s been seeing. How does he explain how real it feels?   
When Levi prods his elbow with his own, Eren jolts at the physical touch. 

His cheeks heat up. 

“The devil.” 

“The devil.” Levi repeats almost thoughtfully, sipping from his glass of water. There’s a Band-Aid on the inside of his hand, the ‘skin tone’ of it not matching his pale tint. 

“You know, Eren, …" 

Watching Levi chew his food slowly, thoughtfully as he stares out in front of him, head slightly tilted upwards, Eren is surprised to see the handsomeness of his features. He isn’t quite as ghoulish as he tends to look when exhausted. Well-rested as he seems to be, Levi could be considered attractive; pale skin and odd features included. 

“... the chances of _ the _ devil visiting you are quite slim. He’s a busy guy, you know? You’ve more likely bumped into _ a _ devil. Or demon.” 

Eren stares at him, mouth agape, fork of food hovering in front of his mouth as he holds it up. 

Is he serious? 

Levi’s features are deadpan. Impossible to read and it takes the man a while before his eyebrows quirk up as he glances at the boy from the corner of his eye. 

“It’s a joke.” 

Eren feels as much a fool, for not recognizing sarcasm in this man, as he does suspicious of his apparent knowledge of supernatural creatures. 

“Do you believe in them?” The teenagers asks, placing down his fork and watching Levi turn in his seat to face him, one arm thrown over the backrest of the chair, his legs falling open. He’s slouching... a desired feat to witness in this man who’s been displayed rather stiff and eerily before. 

“Do you?” Levi throws back, raising a single eyebrow at him. 

Eren feels himself shrink in his seat, the scrutiny –be it imagined or not- too much for him to ignore. His hands clasp together, he wrings his fingers in his lap, looking down at them to avoid Levi’s gaze. 

“It’s hard to tell the difference between real and imagined. Rationally I know there’s no such thing as demons and monsters, yet... In the moment, it’s so convincing that I don’t want to take chances.” 

Levi remains quiet after the boy’s reply, seemingly pondering over what to say to this, or how to judge him. Eren stirs when the man leans forward, reaching out to pluck something off the sleeve of his shirt. Gazing at his nimble fingers, Eren spots a relatively short, raven-black strand of hair being held. 

“That’s mine.” Levi murmurs, eying the piece of hair before letting it flutter onto the table. 

Eren frowns, not sure why he’d point this out. After all, it’s normal for each other’s hair to end up on each other’s clothes.   
However, it seems the observation was just that, and soon enough the man turns his attention back to his food, resuming to eat. 

Staring at him for moments longer, Eren inhales, ready to ask him if he has anything to say to what he’d just told him, yet Levi interrupts him. 

“Going by the improbability of creatures such as those existing. Perhaps you should try to challenge them, next time around. Take a chance.” 

A scary suggestion. 

“What do you mean, challenge?” 

Sipping from his glass of water, Levi lays down his fork. 

“Whatever you’re seeing, whatever it’s planning to do to you, let it do its thing.” Levi murmurs with a shrug before chewing the last of his breakfast. Eren watches him swallow, observes his Adam’s apple bop with the motion. His throat is long, slim. For his dominant and self-assured nature, for his confidence and masculinity, his body appears rather frail.   
Then again, Eren can tell he’s muscular underneath his clothes, not like Erwin, but more than Eren himself, certainly.   
And yet something about him, seems delicate... 

Laughable. 

Eren snorts. 

Levi glances over at him, frowning slightly. 

“What?” 

Waving his hand in a dismissive manner, Eren shakes his head, smile gone, though he feels more relaxed than he had before. 

The remainder of their shared breakfast passes by without incident and without another word spoken.   
The only thing standing out: Levi peculiarly allowing his own knee to rest against Eren’s underneath the table. 

The boy, reveling in the touch of warmth, doesn’t move away the entire time. 


	7. Golden Napes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for leaving comments! Also, I see you; couple of readers who comment on every chapter or have left reviews on my other fics as well.  
Thank you so much.
> 
> In this chapter there's some slight homophobic comments.  
Please read the tags once more, I've added a few.

Eren’s been roaming his mind the moment he’d stepped inside the house. 

Like a haunting. The scent of obsession creeping from beneath the crack of his bedroom door right into Levi’s office.   
Staring at the ajar door, Levi takes a drag from his cigarette, asking himself what it is about this kid that keeps him this occupied, this intrigued. Certainly, the boy is –to standards- attractive, but this shouldn’t have any influence on Levi as he’s not gay. To the contrary, he grows rather nauseated at the thought of two men being involved with one another in such fashion.   
Then, as well, there’s the fact that the kid’s barely fifteen years old, a stinking, obnoxious ball of hormones. 

Annoying even though it’s pleasant to have some life in this dead house. 

Then is that it? Is it only because he brings some light into this house that Levi finds himself addicted to following him around? 

Possible, sure. 

But, what about his intense hallucinations? The kid’s bordering on insanity, his body ready for medication and his fried brain craving therapy. Is that what pulls Levi closer? The peculiarity of this single teenager? The way this boy’s mind bends and curls itself in such severe knots that it ends up producing visions of demons? 

Though he can’t relate, Levi finds himself sensing a connection by the mere fact that both of them are fucked up. For different reasons –likely- and in highly different manners –undoubtedly-. 

Disposing of his cigarette in an ashtray on his desk, Levi gets up and walks on light feet into the hallway. He’s lived here for twelve years, knows every floorboard that creaks and each one that doesn’t, is aware of it even in the darkness that swallows him as he sneaks towards a door. His door. 

Placing an ear against the solid wood, he listens for any sign of Eren being awake. And finds none this time around. Levi’s heard the kid hobble around before, murmuring to himself, moving things and repeatedly opening and closing the closet. He’s aware this boy is restless as can be... not unlike Levi himself who hardly sleeps as is. 

Opening his lips, Levi stops himself from calling his name. His fingertips slide down the door, rest upon the handle... It’d be so easy to get inside, unless it’s locked... In which case he’d easily be able to pick the lock, yet that’d be rather inappropriate, right? 

Pursing his lips thoughtfully, Levi moves away, hesitates with fingers squeezing the door handle. Why does he want to go inside? Is there a reason? Should there be one to begin with? 

Caring not so much about his own intentions to get in, Levi ponders over an excuse to knock on the door. Maybe he can come up with something on the fly, he’s always been good at improvising; at bullshitting, at tricking people. He could sell a man his own mustache within minutes, perhaps he’d have to use some intimidation tactics, but he could do it, no doubt about it. 

Leaning forward once more, Levi presses his lips against the slim crack between door and wall. 

“Eren.” He whispers. 

No reply comes and when he calls again, the same silence greets him. 

Staring down at his own hand, Levi makes sure to let go of the handle before he can push it down. 

He retreats to his office. Disappointed, yet his skin prickles; enticed. 

* * *

He enjoys watching him. 

The house is dark, even throughout daytime there’s countless of dark corners, dim rooms, pitch-black hallways in which Levi finds himself hiding, observing Eren doing anything and nothing. 

He takes pleasure in watching the boy’s nape being bare as he tends to dip his head. The curve of it is light, olive skin smooth and the hairs on his neck –unlike the brown on his head- are golden of color.   
Speaking of which, Levi is rather fond of his hair, it’s a bit too long, too girly and though he despises feminine men, Eren’s delicate hues make his stomach knot in excitement. 

It’s those emerald eyes that haunt him the most, though. They’re clear at times, dark and unruly otherwise. They’re intense, they hide nothing, Levi can see right through them, can look up into them and watch his brain’s gears and cogs turn whenever he tries to process Levi’s words and jokes. 

It’s quite entertaining. 

He enjoys watching Eren squirm, flinch, hesitate, flush. 

All of it. It makes Levi incredibly curious about what other emotions he can tug from within him. 

Levi intentionally rounds the corner of the kitchen when hearing the boy’s footsteps nearby, resulting in them bumping into each other. 

“Sorry!” Eren squawks, stumbling backwards in desired fashion for it allows Levi to reach out and touch his skin. 

“Easy.” He murmurs, preventing the boy from falling by holding his arm. 

Eren thanks him stiffly and the man makes sure to let his fingers slide down the kid’s limb rather than take away his hand entirely. 

Emeralds gaze at him, apprehensive, brows furrowed in confusion. 

Levi’s face betrays nothing, he just stares at the boy until he finally moves around him, excusing himself with an awkward nod. Gazing at him from over his shoulder, Levi eyes the plaster cast around the kid’s left leg. 

He smirks. 

* * *

Something inside the kid’s brains causes him to perceive Levi as a monster, the bad guy. Levi ponders over this for a couple of days until figuring out that in order to be perceived human, the good guy, he should perhaps feign some softer edges. Fake some more approachable atmosphere. 

The only phone in the house is something created by himself. His handywork. There’s no line connected to it, calling with it is more pointless than shouting in the middle of the forest for help would be.   
It’s merely a device in which words had been programmed a while ago. A female voice babbling on about this and that, pausing every now and then to allow the person faking a phone call to feign a reply. 

Leaving his door ajar, after closing the hallway light, Levi presses a single button on the device, allowing it to ring until he picks up with a ‘hello’ spoken loud enough for Eren to hear. He knows the boy is awake, his sleeping pattern –which he’d observed closely- is non-existent, he never sleeps before four in the morning. 

It’s only after less than ten minutes of mumbling in the receiver that he can hear him in the hallway, creeping. Levi can smell him; that disgusting teenage scent mixed with his own overpriced soap he knows Eren uses in the shower. His skin prickles at the knowledge, at the memory of witnessing it. 

He allows the boy some time to perhaps come in, let himself be known, betray himself, stumble, anything, but he’s quite good at keeping still. 

Not good enough though. 

Inviting him in and afterwards observing how nervous Eren looks on his chair, Levi’s stomach rumbles. He’s hungry. 

Asking him if he likes lasagna seems to confuse him in an almost endearingly fashion. It’s an important dish to Levi; the last one he’d eaten before moving into this cabin and losing his mind. Hence, the reply from Eren is important beyond the boy’s knowledge.   
After all, if this teenager doesn’t enjoy the treat that’d been consumed by his past self, is Eren not rejecting what Levi’s been? Where he’d come from? Where he could return to? 

Yet, his worries settle when Eren admits he does like the dish and Levi hums softly. Pleased. 

Occasionally, he aches for that time. Twelve years ago, before he’d done what he’d done, before he’d lost what he’d lost. 

The boy remains nervous through their awkward conversation –or lack therefore- but there’s no fear to be seen in those emerald eyes. Not until Levi stares so long at the kid’s face that he feels like eating it and words his opinion in a whisper. 

“You look tasty.” 

Though he’d expected Eren to stir and ignore what he’d said, or at least stumble out of the office, the boy has the nerve to ask him what he said. 

“That you’re not good at keeping a conversation?” Levi acts dumb, repeating the sentence he’d spoken before his desire had slipped from his salivating tongue. 

The boy pinches himself and Levi changes the subject, always improvising, always bullshitting, always tricking. 

* * *

Honestly, he hadn’t expected the boy to try and run away this early on. He’s been only here for a couple of days and though they’ve barely spoken to each other, Levi’s already hooked. 

As Eren leaves through the front door, after the generic ‘I’m going for a walk’ lie, Levi calmly puts on a pair of black boots of which he knows have a good grip on dirt and mud. An earlier glance out of the window’s showed him ominous, gray clouds and he –unlike Eren- is rather aware it’ll be raining soon.   
Also, unlike Eren, does Levi know very much how dangerous the forest gets in the wrong weather. 

Following Eren without being noticed is easier than expected.   
The kid is so turned into himself, focused on his own thoughts, that Levi hardly has to keep quiet by avoiding to step onto branches and having them snap under his weight. Yet, he plays safe –this time- and chooses his footing carefully. 

Watching Eren’s determination in walking as far away as he can, Levi grows only annoyed at the prospect of being left. He’s doesn’t like the idea of this teenager being gone already, this soon in whatever storyline is laid out for the both of them, together.   
He needs to stay, here, in his cabin, for the next three years. Even the knowledge of having to send him off to school later this year sits wrong. But he’s got to have some morals.   
After all, Levi isn’t a monster. Not in that sense. 

Levi follows him for hours, his boots dirty though Eren’s sneakers appear drenched as they’ve long reached a part in the forest so far away that the moisture of the last rain storm has yet to be dried up by the sun.   
His toes must be freezing, though he doesn’t seem to care. 

When thunder rumbles, both of them look up through the trees towering over them, pausing in their steps.   
Levi looks at Eren, quirks an eyebrow. 

‘Didn’t expect a storm, did you?’ He mentally questions the teenager. 

For a long moment Eren remains still, as if pondering what to do when the first light drops of rain fall down and though Levi preemptively hides behind a tree in case the kid’s about to turn around to return to the cabin, Eren continues. 

His pace is faster, determined to reach a destination he hasn’t even in mind. 

Though it annoys him the kid would rather –or is stupid enough to- continue on his way through a forest ready to be tormented by a summer storm, Levi keeps his distance. It’d be easy to just grab him, pull him back home whether he’d want to or not.   
But not yet... The timing isn’t right, quite yet. 

Something’s got to give. 

A handful of minutes later, as the rain falls down in gallons and the wind whips thick tree branches as if they’re feathers, Eren halts with a hand against a tree.   
Levi watches him, hiding in the dark the storm grants him. 

Eren’s panting, staring down at his feet for so long that Levi figures out what to do to prevent this kid from running away. It’s not a permanent solution... however, it’d give Levi enough time to try and crawl into his brain, peel open layers and nestle himself in there so the obsession becomes mutual. 

As the boy, this time around, does turn on his heels and starts hastily pacing back towards the direction he’d come from, Levi follows him closer, hiding less.   
He appears panicked, footing wobbly, stumbling, walking face-first into low-hanging branches until eventually he starts jogging.   
The thunder above them rumbles so deeply it vibrates in Levi’s chest like a growl, a starving, greedy growl and when Eren catches sight of him through the dark of the storm, Levi can tell he isn’t himself. 

The child’s mouth is agape, eyes blown wide and though he’s looking right at Levi, it appears his attention goes right through him; seeing something else entirely. 

“Leave me.” He says, though Levi can hardly hear the words through the noise of rain and wind, yet can read his full lips just fine. He looks disgustingly tasty with drenched hair sticking to his forehead and cheekbones, with drops of rain dripping from his paler-than-usual skin. 

“Please.” Eren adds and Levi narrows his eyes at him, as insulted as he’s curious about his behavior. 

He’s too frightened. Like he’s witnessing something entirely different from a man he’s seen before. Granted, Eren doesn't know him... but still. Can he see right through Levi? Can this boy see all the wrong, all the bad, the ugly, the hungry inside of him? Can he see what he’s done? 

Unlikely. Levi’s good at hiding, always tricking. 

However, the fear is welcoming in the plan he has and when noticing Eren does indeed seem to avoid him whenever he walks closer, Levi leads him to the edge of a hill. Unlike Eren, unlike any other human, Levi knows this forest like the back of his hand and watching the kid stumble –roll- down the muddy hill doesn’t surprise him.   
Looking down at him from the top, Levi makes sure the kid didn’t break his neck before planning his way down there. 

Eren yelps when trying to move, reaching out to his leg and Levi’s rather impressed at luck being on his side for once. He hadn’t expected him to be daft enough to hurt his leg on his way down. It was a possibility as much as him dying of a broken neck would’ve been. In life, risks have to be taken, after all.   
Regardless, if unscathed, Levi would’ve still been able to have the kid confused and dazed after his fall, enough so that he could’ve anonymously hit him in the back of the head with a rock or log, just hard enough to have him unconscious. Afterwards, breaking his leg or ankle and assuring him to be stuck in a homemade plaster cast for twelve weeks, would’ve been the next step in his plan. 

But look at that... Levi eyes the unconscious boy at his feet after having followed him down the hill more carefully and without incident. Squatting down, he pulls up the leg of his pants, eying the swollen shin, prodding at it and soon enough feeling the crack in it.   
Perhaps not broken after all... But that’s not something Eren needs to know. 

Levi grabs the boy’s arms, pulls his upper body onto his back and drags him back home. 


	8. Grazing Knuckles

Feeling trapped is not a sensation Eren’s experienced before in his life, outside of hallucinations, that is.

Sitting here, with a broken leg, in a stranger’s house, out in the middle of nowhere, succeeds in making him grow restless. Though too anxious to be entirely bored, too mournful to  desire to rebel, Eren finds himself whishing that at least his leg would heal. Even if only so he could pace back and forth without needing crutches.

Besides, as a form of distraction, curiosity has peeked within him and he finds himself eager to sneak around the house, find out what is behind the dozens of doors he’s seen hidden in dark hallways. Yet, it’s impossible right now. Either Levi or Erwin seems to be present somewhere in the house at any given time and Eren’s left walking with shoulders pulled up; on edge.

Staring out the window, Eren observes Erwin, squatted on top of the dirt where he had seen the red Mustang parked, mere weeks ago. Erwin's prodding the earth with a stick, as if bored, or as if looking for something and for means of entertainment alone, Eren raps his knuckles on the glass.

Erwin looks up from over his shoulder, smiling when Eren opens the window.

“Good morning, Eren.”

“’Morning. What’re you doing?” The boy asks, resting his chin on folded arms as he leans from his seat onto the window sill. 

Erwin blinks, glances back at the dirt he’d been prodding and proceeds to get up. The stick he’d been holding is tossed aside and he  pats his hands onto his pants, getting rid of any dirt.

“Nothing. How are you?”

Though his question hadn’t been answered truthfully, Eren assumes that perhaps Erwin suffers from the same bug Eren is; the beginnings of boredom. He shrugs.

“Okay. You?”

The tall blond, as well, shrugs. His hands are dug into the pockets of his pants, his body swaying as he keeps shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He appears nervous. Eren frowns.   
Erwin is not one to be nervous. Even though Eren barely knows either one of these men, neither of them seem to ever feel on edge.

“Hey, Eren.” 

Eren sits up, holding his breath, expecting for him to say something about wolves, or that Eren is not supposed to be here.

“I need to tell you something.” Erwin’s voice is low, he glances over his shoulder, as if he’s about to reveal a secret, or gossip.

“Meet me in the kitchen?” The man suggests, looking back up at him with soft, blue eyes.

Eren nods, closes the window and makes haste in grabbing his crutches and making his way downstairs. He’s curious, marginally worried though the emotion is lost underneath an avalanche of interest in Erwin’s behavior.

The kitchen, as always is dim, as if it is created solely to deflect sunlight. Glancing at the only window, Eren grimaces at the closed curtains.   
After opening the fabric shades, Eren sits down at the table, waiting for Erwin to arrive.

Which he doesn’t.

Plenty of minutes later, the boy is forced to call out the man’s name as he peeks into the even darker living-room at the end of the pitch-black hallway. No reply comes and even when the boy hobbles out into the backyard, Erwin is nowhere to be seen.   
The hairs on the back of his neck stand up at the prospect of the man plotting to perhaps jump-scare him from behind a bush or corner.

And yet nothing happens. Just a breeze rustles through the trees as Eren stares out in front of him.

Glancing at the dirt to his right, he can see the stick Erwin left behind and at a slow pace he gets closer to where the car used to be parked.   
The earth is loose, wet and dark, like it’d been tossed about to plant vegetables or flowers. 

Tilting his head sideway, Eren bends over carefully, trying to reach the stick though he comes short an inch.   
With a huff, the boy straightens back up, using one of his crutches instead to prod at the soil. It’s indeed loose, moist and after some poking Eren scrunches his nose at a horrible smell being released.   
Pinching his nose, Eren keeps tossing about the earth, finding small stones and pieces of grass and eventually spotting a rock so pale it reminds him of the badly painted white bricks of the house’s front. Yet it’s smoother than a brick, whiter than paint except for the chunky dirt stuck to the corner of it. Is it dirt, even?

“What the hell are you doing?” 

Eren jumps at the voice behind him, nearly tripping as he whips around though this time around, Levi’s long fingers do not reach out to help him. Catching himself, Eren meets Levi’s icy gaze... leer. He can tell by the width of his jaws as they’re clenched, that he isn’t pleased whatsoever.

There’s a childish hurt within him to see the man this angry at him after nearly a week of him having been rather calm, approachable, the friendly one. There’s petulant desire to rebel at the hurt after Levi had not even tried to prevent Eren from falling, regardless of the fact Eren hadn’t... Levi should’ve.

The boy’s noticed, as of late, that the more open this man becomes, the hungrier he gets in return to shape some connection with him. He forces himself to remember his parents chose him to take care of him. He forces himself to remember that likely all the creepy shit he’s been going through involving Levi has all been conjured up in his own, tangled mind.   
He forces himself to see something in Levi. Something he wants, needs, craves.

And perhaps this bullshit mindset mixed within a cocktail of teenage hormones has caused Eren to grow agitated within mere seconds after Levi’s crude behavior. No matter how miniscule.

“Poking around.” The boy states, raising his chin and the cocky behavior seems to process at max speed within Levi for his eyes narrow the split second Eren moved his head.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” He murmurs, warningly.

The familiar words do not scare him this time around. No, they piss him off.

“That seems to be the running theme around this place.” Eren snaps back, forcing his breathing to slow down so his pounding heart may follow its example.

‘Take a chance.’ Levi’s advice had been regarding Eren’s hallucinations.

Perhaps this is yet another one.   
Why else would he be this furious over literally nothing? It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t add up for the man to act like Eren had broken something that belongs to him, like Eren had thrown an insult at him.    
Levi had been nice lately. It’s obnoxious for Eren’s delusional brain to try and fuck this up. The last thing the kid wants is to lose the last grasp of reality he tends to find when around the man.

That’s what happened, right?

Eren pinches himself lightly in the arm, stays standing solid, chin raised. Though his mind wavers, flickers in doubt of whether this is reality or not, Eren assures himself he’s having a hallucination and he needs to stand up against it.

Yet, the mind is strong in all the wrong ways and the instinct of fear awakens easily.

When Levi takes a step forward, Eren can’t help but lean away. When Levi reaches out a hand, Eren flinches and when cold knuckles stroke over his left cheek, the boy can not stop his eyes from squeezing shut.   
He expects a punch. A slap. A hand around his neck to choke him. He expects to be yelled at, reprimanded, he expects him to grab his face and tear his skin off with teeth alone. Eren expects anything but what happens.

His eyes flicker open when Levi lets his thumb brush over Eren's lower lip. The man’s gaze is focused on his mouth, the anger gone –or hidden- from his gray eyes and the moment is so odd, so intimate, that even the breeze lays low. The birds stop chirping. The sun hides behind a cloud.

Is this real?

The hand on Eren’s jaw lowers itself over the side of his neck until Levi looks up to meet his gaze dead-on. As many times before; Eren can not read the man’s deadpan expression, can not envision a soul behind his eyes and hence he grows rigid when Levi pulls him down with fingers clasped around his nape.   
Levi leans up, misses his mouth by a hair’s breadth and instead lets his lips hover next to Eren’s ear.

“Be careful, Eren.” Levi whispers, slow and low and soft and his breath is searing hot. His words ring familiar to when he’d warned him before he’d broken his leg and a part of him wonders if that sentence carries bad luck with it. Like a curse. Is he going to break an arm next?

When the man lets go and pulls away, the sun peeks at Eren from the cloud she’d been hiding behind, birds flutter out of their trees; relieved and the wind reminds him to inhale deeply.

Watching the man disappear into the dark kitchen, body swallowed by the shadows, Eren shivers. He’s left frightened, confused, intrigued to some sick degree.   
Rebellion is something he should use carefully.

Nonetheless, the emotion witnessed within Levi might come in handy one day. No one’s in control once tipped over the edge.

* * *

Though it’s hard to tell what’s a hallucination and what isn’t, Eren can say with certainty that he hasn’t seen monsters or experienced downright terror for an entire three days now.   
And though this should soothe him, it only serves to have him grow more nervous at every little thing that seems off.

Something is going to happen.

He can feel it, like the calm before a storm, he’s aware he won’t be left alone for this long by his own nasty mind.

It’s this knowledge that grants Eren a total of five minutes of being capable of keeping calm when something underneath his bed keeps calling his attention by making short, secretive ‘ psst ’ sounds. 

Its voice is close. Right underneath where  Eren’s head is resting on a pillow.

It’s repetitive to the second. The boy has counted, knows that every 13th  heart-beat a one-second long ‘psst’ will resound. He is aware of when it’ll call for his attention, yet still his stomach flips every time it happens.   
The pounding of his heart, by now, is so severe, the overflow of blood so intense, that the inside of his skull is throbbing; deafening, near-blinding.

The closet-door is wide open and the teenager is convinced that whatever had been hiding in there has finally crawled over to the bed via walls and corners hidden by shadows. Why it had taken this long for it to make a move is unknown to Eren... Perhaps it had to wait for his mind to grow weary, tired and mangled.

It’s all made up. He reminds himself of this as he stares up at the ceiling, laying frozen. He assures himself of this when whispered and amused ‘hey’s replace the previous sounds it had made at random intervals.   
It’s not real; the sound and sensation of a nail scratching lightly over the plaster cast around his leg. Regardless of it being imagined, Eren pulls his leg away from the edge of the bed rapidly, trembling at how real it had felt when the touch had made the cast vibrate around his skin.   
Eren tries to convince himself that these details are all imaginary. It becomes harder and harder to convince himself of this. Especially when it tugs at the blanket that lies over Eren, slowly, without pause; causing the sheet to slide over the boy’s skin.

However, when the boy’s shoulder is touched by cool air after the fabric’s been pulled enough to bare his right side, Eren grabs the blanket hard-handedly and tugs it back up.

It stops.

Its voice is gone, it’s not tugging the sheet and Eren wonders if it’s because he’d pulled back the blanket. He fought back, didn’t he? Is that what it takes? To challenge it as much as it challenges him?

Blinking, his heartbeat slowing down, Eren sits up on his elbows, glancing next to him at the floor, expecting to see something; a hand, a leg, a tail... A face.   
There’s nothing.    
Even when Eren leans over, there’s nothing.

However, it is not enough. Eren knows he needs to face his inner demons, so to say, knows he needs to go farther than this. The energy in the room is still heavy, the buzzing in his ears still apparent; it’s still here, under the bed. Or rather, in Eren’s head.   
He needs to push himself past that border, to end this insanity once and for all. That’s how it’s done, right? Suck it up and face your fears. Simple as that.

With both hands on the side of the matrass, Eren leans over the edge of his bed, lowers himself slowly; lower, until his head is upside down, dangling. Without having noticed, he’s squeezed his eyes shut and he can feel by the cold air on his cheeks that he’s facing the –hopefully- empty space underneath his bed.   
Even dangling here makes him grow queasy, frightened, sweating. Blood fills his brain as he is upside down and Eren demands himself to count to three and face whatever’s been tormenting him this time around.

“One.” He whispers, wincing at the sound of his voice, as if breaking the silence would be enough to trigger anything to grab him, eat him.

“Two.” He ignores the  split second creaking of the closet door behind him.

“Three.”

Opening his eyes he’s met by dark-

Well, darkness... and dusty floorboards. His eyes flash from the foot-end to the head; nothing.

It’s in his head.

Of course it is.

This is how he’ll defeat his own mind; by challenging it, by mocking it, by testing it and shutting it down. Piece by piece, day by day. He can do this. He can go back to normal. A normal life with a normal mind. No shrink or mind-numbing medication.

He exhales shakily, is about to sit up when spotting two legs right next to his face. 

Black trousers and shiny, black boots with narrow, long toes; they’re Levi’s.

Levi’s sitting on the bed.

When did he get in? How did he get in? Had Eren not locked the door? When had he sat down on the bed? Eren hadn’t felt the dip of the matrass, hadn’t heard the bed creak...

Sitting up slowly, Eren finds Levi already gazing at him.

“Hello.” Levi dryly says, a smile touches the corners of his lips, though there’s nothing friendly to it. His eyes are half-lid, he looks deceptively calm for someone who’d just broken into a teenager’s bedroom at three in the morning.

Eren teases the thought of this man having been under his bed all this time; ever since Eren had gotten in around eight at night. Would he? It’d explain why he’d thought to be hearing breathing coming from nearby... 

Is Levi his hallucination? Or did he hallucinate before Levi came around? Or is Levi even real at this very moment?

Eren, without giving it thought, reaches out and prods the man’s arm.   
Though expecting Levi to grab his wrist, the man just glances down at his fingers. He scowls. And it’s a relief... Eren would rather have this man be angry than eerily calm.

“I’m sorry, I just... I don’t even know if you’re real or not.” Eren says with a bitter chuckle. Even touching the man proves nothing to him. 

“What were you looking for under your bed?” He asks when Eren pulls his hand away and leans back against the pillow propped against the bed’s headboard.

“I don’t know.”

“Did you find anything?” 

“Just dust.” 

Levi grimaces lightly at that before glancing over at the closet and then back at Eren. The boy doesn’t follow his gaze, doesn’t care to, wants to keep an eye on this man not only so he won’t be surprised but also in the hopes of having Levi grant him some clarity of mind.

As creepy as he is... He’s human. He’s human. He’s real. He’s here. And the thing under his bed is gone. That’s good enough for now. Coincidental or not, Levi might be a rope thrown at him to climb from his insanity. Even if the texture of it would rip open his hands each time again, Eren would always use it to escape his own mind.

“I came to apologize.” Levi says and though Eren wonders why this needs to happen at three in the morning on his bed, he remains quiet.

“For my earlier behavior. For losing my temper.” His words are spoken slow, methodically and his eyes lower towards the boy’s cast.

“For... touching you.” Levi adds, laying his finger-tips on top of the plaster and Eren stirs when he scrapes his nails lightly over the white material. The sound makes his teeth itch.

“That’s okay.” Eren murmurs. He isn’t sure how to feel about the apology, nor about what had happened earlier that day. It hadn’t been that bad, had it? Levi hadn’t even shouted at him... Sure, he’d looked furious, but... it’s okay... there’s probably a legitimate reason for it.

Right?

“Is it?” Levi asks, voice quiet as he looks back up at Eren, meeting his stare dead-on.

Again, nothing is betrayed. Eren can’t tell what he’s really thinking, really feeling, really wanting or intending.

“Even, touching you?” The man adds, and this time around the beginnings of a frown linger upon his eyebrows. He appears genuinely curious, or confused.

It’s a peculiar detail to be questioning Eren about. If anything, the touch had been gentle, contrasting his demeanor and whispered warning. If this had been the touch of an upset Levi, Eren can’t imagine how the man would lay hands on him when in a good mood.

And he shouldn’t.

Eren frowns deeply at his own thoughts. He shoves them away pointedly before replying with a shrug.

“You’re touching me now.” Eren whispers carefully, glancing at the fingers with which Levi seems to be drawing imaginary shapes on his cast. 

Levi pauses, looks down as well, as if he hadn’t noticed he’d been scraping his nails over the white plaster. He pulls his hand away.

“So I was.” He agrees, glancing at the bedroom door.

Levi appears nervous. Not unlike Erwin had earlier today.

Did something happen between them, perhaps?

Did they get bad news?

Is this why Levi had been that angry?

It’d make sense.

And then...

“Are you okay?” Eren asks, out loud, accidentally. 

Levi meets his worried gaze with a surprised one. His thin eyebrows again pull together in a slight frown before he nods, looks away.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Eren watches the man get up from the bed, watches him walk over to the door and something inside of him gnaws.    
He’s actually worried about him, or perhaps this entire scenario. Why he’d be worried about this man is beyond him. But he suspects that he does and if there’s one thing Eren knows in life, it’s that people need to know they’re cared for.

It’s important to let them know... at all times, because you never know when someone won’t return home to you. You never know when someone might drive to their death, might trip off a cliff, might experience medical complications that suck the life out of them before you’re able to say goodbye.

You need to let them know.

You need to.

But, then... Levi’s a stranger, as is Eren. Levi seems to be closer to a villain than a protagonist... but then, that’s just first impressions, isn’t it? Even after these weeks, it still feels like first impressions, like there’s so much to be discovered about him, and this place, and Erwin. There’s too much left in the dark to form a second opinion.

“Hey...” Eren calls when the man is about to close the door behind him as he stands in the hallway which for once is lit up.   
Levi meets his gaze, waiting.

“What happened earlier and... the touching. It’s okay.”

Wow, good job coming on strong, Eren. The boy winces at his own words, at how desperate and needy he sounds. In honesty he does not mean this in an inappropriate manner, though it might’ve come across like this.

Regardless if his words sounded odd or not, Levi just nods, wishing him a good night and closes the door.

For the following minutes Eren watches the dip in his sheets from where Levi had sat down, disappear. Vanish. No trace of what had occurred. Just the memory of which Eren still isn’t certain was reality or made-up.


	9. Bothersome Desires

These ‘episodes’ Eren’s been going through since arriving at Levi’s cabin, become sparser as time progresses. He’s been here for a little over a month and it seems like getting used to the creepy environment allows his mind to give it a more rational place within itself.   
Though, not in a positive sense, particularly. Though appreciative of the sane moments Eren’s blessed to experience from time to time, he as well finds it unsettling that he’s growing used to dark corners and distant whispers.

Perhaps it’s not the house he’s getting used to, but his own delusions. Has he given up? Has he accepted his own demons and started to live along with them rather than run from them the moment they’d appear? Likely, though the kid’s brain is too exhausted to rationalize the irrational.

Instead, he forces himself to relax underneath the showerhead that sprays down warm water. Eren’s discovered that envisioning a brick wall tends to help with stopping his thoughts from reaching the surface of his conscious state. A simple wall, behind which his turmoil  is  captured, locked up until one day they’ll undoubtedly seep through the cracks that have already begun to appear in the thought-up barrier.

It’s sufficient, for now.

Stroking fingers through his hair, Eren massages Levi’s shampoo into his scalp, vaguely wonders if the man’s ever going to buy him his own products before that thought as well is tossed over the wall; gone. No more thinking, just being, relaxing, enjoying the water and cleanliness.

There’s an almost therapeutic comfort to cleaning one’s self. Eren’s appreciated it before his life fell apart as well, though apprehensively as his father tended to point out the water-bill wasn’t cheap because of the kid’s forty-minute long daily showers.    
Levi’s yet to mention any bills, doesn’t seem bothered that the kid washes himself for nearly an hour, every single day, nor that he leaves on the light in his room throughout the entire night, every single night.

Eren appreciates it.

Or perhaps it’s relief.

Once he deems himself ready for another day of the unknown, Eren turns off the water and slides open the plain, lime-green shower-curtain. Carefully reaching for the towel he’d thrown on a nearby laundry basket, Eren pauses when noticing the bathroom door is ajar.   
He stares, expecting to see eyes looking back at him, though there’s no way to tell as the bathroom light is weak and the hallway is cast in black shadows. For all he knows he might be looking straight at something.

Pressing his lips together, Eren grabs the towel and makes haste in wrapping it around his waist before retrieving his crutches. Hobbling towards the door, he presses his hand against it softly until it clicks shut. Resting his head against the wood, he waits, for anything; a knock, a voice.    
He’s tired of this. How his heart skips beats and his stomach knots when spotting eerie happenings.These tiny details that remind him something is wrong with him. Even without the grand presence of demons and monsters, there’s always something off about his surroundings.

Sighing, Eren locks the door, ignores how his mind shouts at him that he’d locked it before he’d stepped in the shower. It’s not true, he’d forgotten, he’d left it ajar, certainly.

Staring in the mirror, the boy prods at the bags underneath his eyes, pulling them down to reveal red waterlines. He looks exhausted, which isn’t surprising considering he hasn’t slept properly in months. Turning sideways Eren lifts his arm, touches the bumps of his ribs, grimacing at their visibility when stretching.   
With a huff he lowers his arm, leans on the sink rather than his crutches, gazes at his own features.   
He rarely does this; face himself. Looking into his own green eyes, Eren wonders if anything betrays the insanity that whirls within him. It strikes him as odd, in this quiet moment, that you never know what is going on within another person. Nothing but the dark crescent-formed shapes underneath his eyes would betray that anything is wrong.

He looks so normal... so bland, generic, and yet... why is he the person he is? Why is his mind the one he has to live with? Why can’t he peel off his skin, open up his skull and shove his brain down the toilet?

“Because you’d die, you idiot.” He murmurs at himself before pulling back his lips and observing his white teeth. They’re shaped perfectly though they’re rarely on display anymore as his wide smiles seem something of the past. Eren’s mother –who'd blessed him with her naturally good teeth genes- used to tell him how much she loved his smile. They had similar once, her and him. Broad, grand, one of those smiles that light up your face with dimples and creases around eyes.

His mother... well, he squeezes his eyes shut, places her behind the brick wall.

Licking his lips after closing them, Eren brushes his wet hair back and leaves the bathroom. He doesn’t even notice the door opens without him having to unlock it beforehand.

* * *

On his way down the stairs, Eren is met by Erwin going to ascend them. They both pause, look at each other for a moment before silence is broken.

“Eren, I was just looking for you.”

“To tell me what you were supposed to tell me last time we saw each other?” Eren vaguely asks, referencing when Erwin and him  were  supposed to be meeting in the kitchen after the man’s nervous behavior in the backyard.

Erwin frowns.

“Not sure what you’re talking about but come with me, we need to discuss something.” Erwin simply says, a soft smile on his full lips as he takes the stairs with two steps at a time, passing Eren by.

Though annoyed that the memory of the backyard had likely as well been an illusion, Eren turns around carefully before following Erwin back upstairs.    
It’s a struggle, walking up these steps with a plaster cast around his leg and two crutches to support him; one of which he’s propped under his arm as he feels safer holding on to the balustrade.

Looking up to count the remaining steps, Eren pauses in his tracks.

Erwin, stood atop the staircase, looks down his nose at the boy, no expression on his features but a rather gloomy atmosphere quivering the air around him. Eren squeezes his eyes shut, opening them a second later and finding the odd energy surrounding the man to have cascaded into a long shadow creeping down the stairs; touching the boy’s bare toes.   
With the hallway light turned on behind the tall man, one would consider it basic physics for Erwin’s features to be darkened by shadows, it’s plain logic that his tall posture allows long swoops of black to seep down the steps.

It’s shadows.

Just shadows.

Inhaling shakily, Eren forces himself to walk up the stairs, looks at his feet rather than Erwin who awaits him motionlessly. 

When reaching the second-to-last step however, the man does not move out of his way; forces the boy to stand still and crane his neck to look him in the eye.

“Can you move?” Eren murmurs, awkwardly, hesitantly, as his skin prickles at the thought of Erwin shoving him down the staircase.

“Please.” The boy adds when no reaction comes.

He won’t allow this. It’s in his head. All this damn shit, in his fucking head. He won’t stand down. Or be frightened. He’ll address the demon if that’s what it takes.

“Just trying to help you, Eren. The top step is rather slippery.” With those words, a large hand reaches out to him and Eren considers whether or not to take it.    
He’s gone up and down these stairs countless of times before, yet is not aware of a step being even more slippery than any other –hence why he goes bare-footed rather than wear socks on the polished wood-.

If this is a hallucination... what would grant him the better outcome? To amuse it and take its hand? Or to discard its desire to communicate and upset it?

“It’s okay.” Erwin assures him, reminding Eren of when he'd held him when  he had been hyperventilating after  b e i n g convinced the devil  was after him. Ah yes... that happened, didn’t it?

Glancing up at the man who waits patiently with a smile touching the corners of his mouth, Eren places his hand into the larger one. His skin is warm. Not cold or clammy or rough.

Being shoved off the staircase isn’t the outcome. Rather, Erwin helps him up the last few steps before he lets go of his hand and turns back around. Following him through the hallway, the boy wonders if he’ll be taken to a different room, one of those behind any of the locked doors.

But that’s not the case.

Eren follows the man into Levi’s office –or perhaps it belongs to Erwin after all-, sits down in the chair he’d sat in before as the man takes place on Levi’s chair... or Erwin’s chair.

“I’ve made some phone calls yesterday, Eren, regarding schooling.” Erwin starts, reminding Eren that a new school year, indeed, is right around the corner. He perks up at the prospect of a sane environment.

“However,” 

The boy deflates in his seat.

“... there’s an issue with transport.” 

Eren nods.  Of course there is, they live in the middle of fuck-all. The cabin is located so deeply in the woods that not even a daily car-ride to and from would be worth the effort, let alone having a school-bus come to pick him up every day. 

“So, I’ve done some research.” Erwin continues, folding his fingers, his massive shoulders tensing when leaning onto the desk. Eren watches his trapezius muscles roll underneath the fabric of his shirt, wonders if he’ll ever be this muscular when grown up.

“There’s two options. Boarding school or home schooling.”

“Boarding.” Eren’s reply is immediate. He’d rather eat his own foot than stay locked inside of this building for the rest of his teenage years. He wouldn’t even make  it, his brain will fry itself by the time he turns sixteen.

Erwin, however, seems doubtful of the answer. The grimace on his face is only hidden behind folded hands after a split second; long enough for the boy to witness it.

“What?” Eren asks, tilting his head, frowning.

Erwin opens his mouth, places a finger against his own lips as he pauses before finally speaking.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Worry about what?”

Almost coyly, the man looks away, reaches out towards the phone on the desk, curls the cable around his index-finger as he plays with it for a few counts.

“Again, none of your worries, Eren. Boarding it is. I’ll sign you up.”

Though something is in fact wrong, Erwin seems apparent at not sharing this with the boy and Eren shrugs it off; too relieved at the prospect of going to school with different people from these two geezers.

When the conversation comes to an end and Eren leaves the office, Erwin picks up the phone to dial the school Eren will be going to.   
Before closing the door behind him, the boy vaguely takes note of how the female voice on the other end of the line sounds similar to Levi’s mother.

Then again... through distortion and distance, how could one really tell a difference?

* * *

“Are you a doctor?” Eren asks as he watches Levi carefully open up the plaster cast around his leg.

Seated on the bathroom floor tiles, the only sounds accompanying them are that of the light cracks of the plaster and the buzzing of the single light-bulb above them dangling from the ceiling. A storm outside causes the glass to sway lightly, allowing shadows to dance in the small room across white tiles and light-gray walls.

“Not quite.” Levi murmurs, inserting fingers into the crack he’s created, pulling the plaster apart with great care.

Once the material comes off, Eren tips his head backwards until it impacts gently with the wall he’s leaning against. He sighs loudly in a half-laugh at the sensation of air reaching his naked skin.

“Feels so weird.” He murmurs with a smile, relieved beyond imagination that he’s rid of the weight on his leg. Reaching forward he scratches the skin of his shin almost furiously.

“Finally.” The boy groans at being capable of itching the countless of ticklish areas he’d had to suffer through for the past two months.

Levi waits patiently, stares at him in a manner that for once isn’t intense. He appears rather calm, if not timid. A touch of... something, disappointment? Perhaps. Though why would he be?

“I never want to break a bone again.” Eren complains, rubbing his limb before sitting back.

“Well, make sure you don’t do anything stupid and it won’t happen again.” Levi murmurs, his tone bland. The boy’s too pleased to be insulted at the comment. With a chuckle he nods.

“Yeah, I’ll try.”

“Good.” The man agrees before touching Eren’s leg. 

The boy stirs at his touch, his finger-tips a little chilly as they prod and brush slowly over his shin.

“Seems alright. Let’s try to walk.” Levi mumbles before getting up to his feet and reaching out a hand towards Eren.   
Eren takes it without hesitation, excited to test his –hopefully- healed leg and sure enough, though it takes some getting used to, he’s soon enough able to walk around like he had before he’d broken his shin.

“What a relief.” Eren sighs, smiling as he turns around from the other side of the bathroom, looking at Levi who meets his gaze with a somber one.

“Back on your own two feet, huh?” The man says quietly and the comment makes the boy frown.

If he wouldn’t be aware of his own paranoid mind, Eren would actually believe that the man is disappointed with him being able to walk properly again. It’s a ludicrous thought, it would not make sense for anyone to desire of him to be crippled; unless they’d have bad intentions.   
Going by the past two months in which Levi hadn’t done a single thing to harm the boy, he does not seem to be the villain in this story of whirling suspicions and hallucinations.

Maybe he’s reading him wrong. Right now, right here; another messed up version of the truth is playing before Eren’s eyes.

Yeah, it’s all in his head.

“I’ll be even less of a bother now.” Eren says, teases almost, tempts his own delusions to try and bring his mood down.

Levi tilts his head sideways, not unlike Eren tends to do when confused or noticing something peculiar. The man’s lips thin.

“You’re not a  bother , Eren.” He whispers, as if it’s a secret between them; a confession.

“To the contrary... I wish you’d bother me more.”

They stare at each other in silence. Though his eyes seem to smolder, Eren knows it’s because they’re naturally half-lid and the horrible lighting in the bathroom causes them to appear darker than normal. Levi remains still, leaning against the wall opposite of Eren, ankles as well as arms crossed and isn’t that a sign of being closed off? Right? 

Yeah, there’s nothing to the words he’d spoken... If he’d meant them... surely, he wouldn’t have been standing there, so... well, though he appears relaxed, Eren’s sure he read somewhere that crossing arms and ankles just mean someone’s avoiding interaction.

But then why does he not look away from the boy? Does he enjoy watching Eren blush, watching him search for words, or even translate whatever the man says?   
Why is he blushing in the first place?   
And then why does he not move away when Levi pushes his weight off the wall in order to saunter over to him.

Is he sauntering though? Is Eren imagining this? Why would Levi... ? Why would he assume this man is... seducing him? Seducing. That can’t be it.   
Reminding himself that he is horrible at reading body language, Eren refuses to move, refuses to cave under his own suspicions and the beginnings of perhaps another episode of absolute delusion.

It’s a ridiculous notion for a man in his late twenties to seduce a fifteen-year-old of the same gender.

Quite far-fetched. 

Yet, where do these thoughts come from?

Levi, as expected, does not come to stand nose-to-nose with Eren, but rather halts when passing him by. Their shoulders touch; unavoidable in the small bathroom.

Eren glances at him, holds his breath, when Levi clasps a hand onto the boy’s shoulder.

“Come bother me, some time.” He murmurs as he leans in slightly, mouth directed at the kids throat rather than his ear.

“What do you mean?” Eren whispers back, his body shivers at the proximity, at the lack of ominous energy. At the abundance of curiosity, excitement, new-found interest accompanying this, this... human being.

Levi clacks his tongue, the sound echoes off the bathroom walls, causing the boy to flinch.

Listening to the man inhale through his nose, Eren ignores the thought of Levi intentionally smelling him.

“Figure it out.” Levi vaguely suggests and Eren can hear the smirk in his voice. Yet, the way his stomach flutters, this time around, isn’t from anxiety. He isn’t suspicious, or not in the way he’s been countless of times before. This isn’t a creature, after all. It might be a hallucination; this atmosphere between them, but it’s a welcoming enigma to the normal terror that accompanies his delusions.

He’d take this goosebumps inducing weight between them over fearing that Levi will eat his face any time.

The man leaves him alone after his words, closing the door behind him and allowing Eren to shakily sit down on the edge of the bathtub behind him.

His heart pounds. His ears ring. His stomach feels tight. His mouth is dry.

And yet, none of the fear nor anxiety he’s grown so accustomed to accompanies him tonight.


	10. Hollowed Cheeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "warning" for EreJean.
> 
> Also, again, thank you so much for the comments and the pondering about plot and what is going on! I love reading all your reviews and points of view.

Eren’s surprised, as well as pleased, to note that even after having to spend two hours in an office at his new school because Erwin had apparently not taken care of all the paperwork to sign him in, that he gets accepted either way. 

The building is beautiful compared to the shitty cabin. The colors are light, the walls made of concrete and plaster, the only wood present that of desks and chairs with metal legs. There’s noise, voices of fellow students humming loudly, bouncing off the gym walls inside of which they’re waiting to be assigned teachers and classrooms. There’s so much visual stimuli, so much to look forward to and even to worry about that his brain doesn’t find the time to conjure up anything eerie or suspicious. 

Eren’s never been this happy to be stuck in a room with obnoxiously loud teenagers before. 

Even when he gets shoved in the arm by a blond guy who can’t be much older than him, Eren fails to be upset over it. He just stares the boy right in the eyes, nods at him. 

“Hey.” 

The other kid frowns, surprised before he grins at him and reaches out a hand. 

“I was planning to bully you but alright. Jean.” He shakes Eren’s hand when pronouncing his name. 

“Eren. And better luck next time.” Eren jokes, almost thrilled to be touching the skin of someone other than Levi and Erwin. Finally, some human interaction with people his own age. 

Jean doesn’t let go of his hand for a long while, stares at him, as if wanting to say something more before the screech of an ill-tuned microphone pierces through all of their ears. Everyone in the room winces, synchronized groaning chiming off the walls and as Eren shares a glance with Jean after the distraction, the boy snorts at him, rolls his eyes. 

“Bunch of amateurs.” Jean exclaims. 

Eren smiles, he likes him. 

* * *

It’s only three days in before Eren finds himself buried nose-deep in Jean’s pubes. 

Though he’s turned on to be blowing his new friend, Eren finds his own mind distracting him from the task at hand by asking ridiculous and unexpected questions. 

‘Would Levi smell the same down there? Or would he smell like the aftershave that lingers on his throat? Would he be as bushy as this teenager is? Or trimmed? Would he moan like Jean, or would he just breathe heavily? Would Levi force down Eren’s head onto his length, would he fuck his face, or be rather passive such as Jean is?’ 

The thoughts would freak him out, or at least surprise him more, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s got one hand wrapped around his own length, stroking it at an erratic and hurried pace. He’s close, very much so, and he’s never been able to stop his mind from swirling into the weirdest directions whenever nearing climax. Eren doesn’t care, he just wants to come, he wants to spill and the peculiar thoughts that are penetrating his skull only serve to give him more pleasure. 

Imagining it is Levi he’s sucking off is what makes him topple over the edge and he groans around the length in his mouth while spilling into his fist. 

“You already came?” Jean whispers when Eren pulls away. 

“Yeah, sorry.” The boy pants as Jean helps him to crawl back up and lay down next to him on the matrass of their shared bunk-bed. 

“No way, man. That’s hot.” Jean assures before half leaning over him and reaching down. 

Eren, with heart still pounding and ears rushing, allows the pleasure to settle. 

Surrounded by the sound of snoring kids and the slick rhythm of Jean jerking off, Eren faces the thoughts he’d experienced when he’d been bordering on climax. 

He hasn’t seen Levi in almost two weeks now. And peculiarly enough, the occurrence of his hallucinations has degraded by a great amount. Though he’s aware Levi’s not the cause, nor is the cabin –as he’s had these delusions before in life- he now realizes that either the man or his new home is a catalyst. 

An extremely powerful one, at that. 

Yet, still, he finds himself thinking more of Levi now that they’re separated than he had when they’d been living together full-time. Not to mention, contrary to the beginning when the man had represented all that could be evil, all that could go wrong, Eren’s brain seems incapable now to put the man in any other light than a bright one. Be it hesitant.   
No shadows, no creatures, just a new illumination of a human being he’s growing intrigued by. 

What had triggered this? He’s unsure.   
Perhaps it started with the little things, like the phone call between Levi and his mother, the tiny smirks and the touching of knees under tables, fingers sliding over his arm, eye-contact; intense one time, mellow the other. Or is it the greater things that start to click? Such as how the creature under his bed had disappeared when Levi sat down next to Eren. As if he’d chased it away. How he’d warned him, helpfully, before he’d gone to the forest. How it was Erwin holding him after he’d seen the devil, how it was Erwin –not Levi- who went from the shape of the demon to the illusion of himself. 

Is Levi the friendly one?   
Erwin the creature? 

When Jean moans, shudders through his orgasm, Eren is shaken from his thoughts. 

“Wanna join me in the shower?” Jean whispers as he slides off the top bunkbed, skipping the little staircase altogether. Eren glances down at the boy, ponders over it... 

It’s when his ears start to hum and his spine begins to shudder, that he nods his head, getting up and following the other teenager to the public bathroom down the hall of their sleeping arrangement. 

Though they’re breaking rules; sexual behavior in the sleeping hall, showering at one in the morning, some more sexual behavior in one of the shower cubicles, Eren enjoys every moment of it.   
What a blessing to feel like a normal teenager again. Such luck for not thinking of his parents for a single night, for not worrying about his future, for fantasizing about long, bony fingers and sharp angles and hoarse voices. 

* * *

The reunion with Levi isn’t as pleasant as he’d desired. 

Though Eren hadn’t expected a warm welcome, considering even after months it feels like they’re strangers, neither had he suspected Levi’s rather childish behavior. 

He glances at him from where he’s sitting in the passenger seat, watches Levi drive calmly home from the bus stop where he’d picked up Eren. Levi hasn’t said a word, hasn’t even looked at him, remains quiet even when Eren asks questions and it’s rather apparent something is wrong. 

Eren frowns to himself, gazes outside at the dark clouds looming over the forest towards where they’re heading. His stomach is tight, forgotten anxiety and apprehension returning tenfold after five days of spending time with students at a school which has yet to influence his mind enough for him to grow wary of it.   
A week of sleeping well, eating well, and absolutely no hallucinations. As far as he can tell. 

Though it could prove to him the house and Levi are to blame, Eren knows it’s all to do with his own state of mind. He’d been distracted, relaxed, excited; and nothing had been off. 

Yet now... here, as he’s uncertain and starting to feel afraid of the man’s cold behavior; Eren can hear the distant buzzing in his ears, can feel cold prickle underneath his skin; causing his hairs to stand up. 

Having missed Levi wouldn’t particularly be the correct term to describe what Eren had experienced when away from him. But there had been something. Something unfamiliar, gnawing at him, and he’d hoped that their reunion would’ve brought answers along with it. But, Eren’s left confused, Eren’s left to wonder why he’d even looked forward to this moment in the first place. 

They’re strangers still. 

Why is he disappointed? 

Why does he care? 

Why is Eren so greedy to create a bond with this distant creature? 

Creature. There it is, that word... Back in his mind, ready to bounce off the inner-walls of his skull and drive his mind insane with what-ifs. 

“I can hear you thinking.” Levi murmurs as he flicks on the blinker of his car, glances over his shoulder at the road and then takes the turn that leads them into the forest. 

Eren’s ridiculously relieved at hearing his voice. He’s talking to him, a good sign. Not to mention, the tone of it, the lazy pronunciation, the quiet rasp. Eren shivers. 

“Missed me?” Eren jokes awkwardly and Levi is as surprised as the kid himself is at the question. 

The man glances at him shortly before directing his gaze back onto the dirt road in front of him. 

“How was your first week?” Levi avoids the question and though there’s a tinge of disappointment pulling at Eren’s insides, the boy ignores the feeling for it shouldn’t be there in the first place. The question had been rhetorical, after all. 

“It was okay. Didn’t get beat-up, so that’s always good.” 

Levi snorts at the boy’s comment and Eren catches him flicking up his eyebrows. 

“And you?” Eren tries, growing shy. 

“How was your week?” The boy adds, fumbles with the rim of his sweater as he purposefully glances out the window beside him, refusing to meet the man’s gaze were he to rest on him. 

“Uneventful” Levi murmurs over the hum of the engine. The boy can’t help himself from eying the man through the reflection of the glass, catches Levi glancing at him behind his back before taking another turn carefully. 

The car ride seems to last forever as Levi appears to intentionally drive slower than necessary. Regardless, parking on a patch of hard road, they get out and walk the last twenty minutes up the hill towards the cabin; too dangerous to have your car parked in case of rainy weather and mudslides. 

Once inside the house, Eren inhales the scent. It’s familiar, though not pleasant.   
Levi brushes past him, fingertips sliding over his lower-back. Eren stirs, though not out of fear. At least the man smells good, Eren concludes as he catches the scent of his soap. 

Later throughout the evening, Eren grows more and more tense at his surroundings. At how the bathroom-door stands ajar after his shower, at how the closet-door creaks open after closing it numerous times, at how the sound of nearby breathing keeps Eren awake the entire night. 

* * *

In the night of Saturday to Sunday, Eren is woken by a sound. 

He opens his eyes, instinctively glances at the closet-door which surprisingly enough is closed. With only his night-lamp turned on, the boy can’t tell if there’s anything in the shadows leering at him but neither is he eager to go and find out. 

Waiting for the sound to repeat, Eren lets his eyes fall shut, exhausted, heavy, comfortable. 

The noise returns and though Eren doesn’t recognize what it is, he can tell it’s coming from the bedroom door. He stares at it, wide-eyed, unmoving. The handle gets pushed down, causing the boy to hold his breath, but no one enters... Instead, the strange sound comes back and it takes him all of half a minute to figure out someone is picking the lock. 

A burglar? 

When a loud click chimes and the door handle is pushed down once more, Eren tugs the blanket up over his nose, peeking at whatever creeps inside.   
It’s skinny, dark, tall, its faceless head reaches the top of the entrance, its fingers are absurdly long; twitch, impatiently. As it walks inside –soundlessly- its knees are set wide apart though hips and feet take up narrow space and with every step it seems to buckle under its own ludicrous length, half tripping, trembling. Shuddering. 

Yet. 

The closer it gets. 

The shorter it becomes, the wider its shoulders are set, the less awkward and erratic its movements become until eventually it is Levi standing next to his bed. 

Though his heart is still pounding and he’s feeling sick to his stomach, Eren exhales in relief to see the human, not the creature. 

“Did you take the red Mustang?” Levi asks, his voice so quiet it sounds like a hiss in Eren’s ears. 

“No.” Eren replies, frowning, confused... Is the man sleepwalking? No, no, of course he isn’t. It’s Eren, it’s always Eren. 

“I watched you shower today.” The man says as he creeps closer, bending forward and letting his hand slide over the boy’s chest, the blanket between them the only thing preventing their skins from touching.   
Eren’s stomach clenches. 

“I saw hickeys on your hips.” Levi whispers as his face hovers above Eren’s. Their eyes meet through the dark and though the boy wants to push him away, shout at him for watching him bathe... Nothing leaves his lips. 

“They are not supposed to be there, Eren.” His tone is sing-song, the only thing missing is him wagging a finger in front of Eren’s nose. It’s a warning intonation, the sound too light to not make the hairs on his neck stand up. 

“Here I thought you wanted me to take a bite of you.” 

Eren stares at the man’s mouth when teeth are bared before he clacks them together in a snap, a bite. The boy flinches. 

The matrass dips when Levi crawls over him, knees framing the boy’s hips, a hand beside each shoulder. 

“I’m hungry, you know.” Are his next words and though Eren can’t place why the blanket between has dissolved into nothing, he isn’t planning to figure it out for he’s too focused on how close Levi’s lips are to his. 

“I’ve been wanting to eat you since you stepped into this shit-hole.” 

His breath smells of copper. Eren curls up his nose, grows wary of the hue in Levi’s eyes... a dirty color to them, dirtier and dirtier and clearer until yellow is all that’s there. Yet not glowing... just dull, dead. 

“I’m so eager to eat every, single piece of your face, Eren.” Levi confesses, goes as far as to hum when leaning down and letting the tip of his nose travel over his throat; inhaling the entire way up until his teeth come to rest against Eren’s chin. 

He nips and the boy flinches. Yet, not at all in fear. Which shouldn’t make sense going by what is happening... But it’s true. All Eren experiences is the skipping of heartbeats and the fluttering inside his stomach and when Levi once more sinks his teeth gently into his skin, the boy arches up into his warmth. Cranes his neck. 

Levi bites harder, slowly, increasing the pressure on his teeth until Eren hisses. 

“Levi...” Eren whispers the man’s name, only marginally distressed at how much he enjoys the sting, the intimidation, the incapability of getting away. Though his hands tremble, he reaches up until his arms hook behind Levi’s broad shoulders. 

When did the man take off his shirt? 

The man lowers himself, his body flush with Eren’s and the teenager gasps when feeling the hardness press against his hip. 

“Shit...” 

Levi chuckles at the boy’s curse, sinks his teeth into his cheek and bites down, hard. 

“Ow!” Eren yelps, removing his arms and lightly pressing against his chest. 

However, the man bites harder. And when Eren tells him to stop, when he tries to push him away with more force, again the pressure increases until warm liquid is felt seeping down. 

“Levi! Levi, you’re hurting me!” Eren hastily speaks, panicking when the man doesn’t budge an inch and just keeps piercing deeper until all Eren can feel through the sharp pain, is how the man’s teeth touch his own through ripped skin. 

“Stop!” He pounds the man’s chest, grows nauseated at how Levi keeps rolling his hips down into him, rubbing his erection in the crook of Eren’s hip. Levi moans, the sound interrupted with small jolts of held back laughter. And when he pulls away at last, Eren stares, mouth agape, at the piece of flesh dangling from between grinning teeth. 

He whimpers, tries to scramble away when the man opens his mouth, allowing the slab of meat to fall down on Eren’s face where it bounces off with a sickening pat. 

“I know you’re as sick as I am.” Levi says, voice rough as if he’d been undone by the act, his teeth are red with blood which seeps from his mouth like black oil. 

“We’re different kinds of fucked up.” The man adds before a hand slides down and cups Eren through his underwear. It’s only then that he himself notices that his length is as hard as Levi’s; standing at full attention; complete and all-consuming interest. 

He gasps for breath when Levi squeezes him, moans when nails dig through the fabric into his shaft and it’s this sound created by himself that wakes him up. 

Eren’s eyes open in a flash, he tugs his hand away from his arousal like it had burned him and he hastily sits up to look around the room. 

Nothing seems off. 

It’s quiet except for the rain ticking on his window. 

With determination, Eren ignores his erection as he lays back down. His fingers prod his cheek, checking –foolishly- if he’s missing a chunk of flesh big enough to be able to touch his own teeth from the outside in.   
But there’s nothing amiss. 

It’d been a nightmare. 

A fucked up one at that. 

His subconscious made sure to remind Eren that whatever hormone-induced thoughts he has about Levi are wrong, unnecessary and based upon the craving for something meaningful and solid in his life. Not to mention that, though he’s doubtful Levi would actually tear his face off, being intimate with this man in any inappropriate shape or form would not be reciprocated with similar enthusiasm. 

Levi would shut that down. Which makes sense. 

What doesn’t make sense is why Eren’s brain is so set on this man after having been creeped out by him for the first month. How had he switched this quickly of opinions, of impressions? How is Eren stupid enough to believe he has any clue as to who this stranger is? 

It’s pathetic. 

The next morning, as they eat breakfast in silence, Levi rests his knee against Eren’s under the table. The boy pulls away... yet, various minutes later, as his legs fall open, their knees touch once more. 

Neither of them move. 


	11. Serene Storms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support on the previous chapter and the tumblr DMs!  
You guys are so lovely, I'll do my best to reply more to reviews from now on.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this new chapter :D

** Warning: character death (also read the tags just to make sure, I added a few two chapters ago) **

Erwin adores Eren the moment he lays eyes on him for the first time.

Staring at the tiny person , being held by his mother in the hospital bed, Erwin can not hold back a smile.

“He’s delightful, Carla.” He murmurs, stepping closer to brush a knuckle over the sleeping Eren’s chubby cheek. The young woman smiles back up at him.

“Thank you, Levi.” She says before her attention is directed back onto her newborn.

Grimacing at the name laid upon him, Erwin turns away, excusing himself with the generic ‘I’m going to get a coffee, you want anything?’ excuse.

Jogging down the steps of the nearby staircase, he’s met by Levi ascending them. They pause, look at each other in silence before the shorter boy opens his mouth.

“How is she?”

“She’s doing well, as is baby Eren.”

“I don’t care about it.” Levi sourly shares, something Erwin has been aware of ever since she’d gotten pregnant.   
Regardless, he doesn’t know what to say to this and instead just nods, pressing his lips together before continuing on his way down. Unsurprisingly, Levi follows.

“When will she leave the hospital?” Levi asks on as he jogs down with Erwin, though his pace is quicker as his legs are half the size of the taller boy’s.

“I don’t know. She’ll likely need some time to settle at home as well, you know?” 

Levi’s reply is a grumble and a glance over his shoulder before they exit into the main hall, shows Erwin that he’s got his hands dug deep into the pockets of his pants, shoulders pulled up, facial expression close to resembling that of a man deeply offended.

It causes Erwin to halt.

Reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder, Erwin smiles at him though he doesn’t experience the desire to support him as much as he’s feigning it in his expression.   
Levi’s an obnoxious kid at times. At fifteen, you’d certainly expect someone to desire attention, though perhaps not affection. Regardless, no matter what standard you’d compare it to, Levi exceeds all of them.

Levi's a little bit too needy. A little bit too possessive. And a whole lot too aggressive. Not physical, mind you... But he’s got a mouth on him. He’s explosive, blows up without warning (unless you know him well enough and see the signs; quiet before the storm, an eerie calmness to him once his buttons have been pushed one too many times). Methodical ways allow him to strike back tenfold. His explosions aren’t as impulsive as they are calculated. Like he flips a switch that allows him to go berserk, a switch that has a generous timer allowing him to be able to choose when to flick it.

Levi’s not a young man you’d want to cross. Though many think they can with his small posture, skinny teenage limbs and hunched shoulders. He appears awkward, but he’s far from it.

“It’ll be fine.” Erwin assures, squeezing Levi’s shoulder before shaking him lightly, slowly.

Levi glances up at him, raven strands of hair dangling in front of his gray eyes. The grimace on his face is apparent, but he still murmurs a ‘yeah  yeah ’ through his teeth.

* * *

As much as Levi’s fond of Carla, Erwin notices that he himself still interests the young boy more than she does. Not by much, though.

Since Levi had been able to crawl, he’d been following Erwin around at all times. The reason for this had likely been the simple fact that the boy’s mother had passed away giving birth to him and other than the six-years older Erwin as his adoptive-brother, the only other option for him to bond with had been Erwin’s father; a stuck-up man, married to his work and divorced from his wife. A wife who felt it necessary to move away to a different country to escape the pain Erwin’s father had put her through.

Needless to say, emotional capacities are damaged within their tiny, make-shift family. And Erwin’s the lesser of two evils. He might’ve been too young to parent Levi, but at least he’d always been there for him in any way he could be.

And still is.

“It’s ugly.” Levi murmurs as they both stare into the crib in which Eren lies asleep.

Erwin shoves his brother with his elbow, shushing him. It isn’t a joke, however. Levi’s deadly serious, and not in a matter-of-fact way, but closer to a manner that’d describe feelings of disgust. Genuine, unabashed revulsion at this living object that’s stealing time away from  ‘ Levi and Carla ’ as a unit .

When Carla returns and wakes Eren, Levi noticeably stirs. In this moment, Erwin reconsiders his earlier definition regarding his younger brother... He is, in this very moment, rather awkward.   
The observation isn’t lost on even the baby who starts crying the moment it lays eyes on Levi when Carla reaches him out towards him.

“No, thanks.” The short boy says, pulling up his nose and physically turning half away at being offered to hold the crying child.

Carla, who –to Erwin- doesn't seem as fond of Levi as Levi is of her, smiles in a disappointed fashion. Erwin reaches out immediately, taking Eren from her and rocking him until his cries turn into sniffles.   
It’s a habit, picking up the rotten pieces Levi leaves behind in a trail of negativity. He’d had to save his skin countless of times before, had to make excuses for him, had to make sure people didn’t outright kick Levi out of schools, out of his own home.

Yet, whether or not the boy is grateful for it... Well, Erwin assumes he is, Erwin assumes Levi’s too much of a stubborn, pride-drunk adolescent to show any emotions other than negative ones. Or maybe he hopes this, rather than believes it in the back of skull.

Watching Levi staring at Carla with intent, Erwin is aware there’s a million things in his brother’s mind that he wants to throw out at her. Erwin knows that Levi’s frustrated, that he has opinions, thoughts, regrets and doubts and a hell ton of anger, and in his convoluted way; Carla must be the cause of nearly all of them.   
To an outsider she has done nothing wrong. All she’s done is that she resembles the photograph image of the mother Levi’s never known, that she’s been kind to him from the beginning, had spent time with him as she’d been his private tutor since his thirteenth. And after the audacity of having him feel safe and loved around her; she’d went ahead and gotten pregnant from her husband, went on a break and then gave birth to a child that has opened her eyes to wanting to be a stay-at-home mom... no more tutoring in her future. No more Levi, in her future.

These things happen in life. She’s nine years older than Levi, has different priorities, different plans, has plenty of loved ones, though a tiny family. She’s loved by everyone that comes across her path.

And if there’s one thing Levi grows fond over, it’s people who are nothing like him.

Observing Carla talking to Levi, in a comforting manner, as she can see the signs of worry and distress on his pale features, Erwin wonders how much of his emotions are fueled by envy.   
When it comes to Erwin, after all, Levi’s fascination with him is based upon the desire to want to be him. He’d had craved this quite early on in their relationship.

Erwin, clever as is he is, picked apart his brother’s mind as a hobby, a sick cure against boredom where he toyed with Levi’s emotions just to figure out what exactly isn’t quite right about the short kid. Though theories, Erwin’s pretty convinced that Levi suffers from such self-hatred, self-disgust that his preferred choice of coping is to disassociate. Yet, not in a manner one would assume, or consider acceptable regarding maintaining a stable state of sanity. Not in such fashion where he’d remove himself from a situation mentally to avoid stress and come back to himself later.

No. 

It’s a lot closer to an eerie desire to crawl into another’s skin. To be portrayed as perfection, as a being that is so unlike Levi that he himself would never be able to fake it. Hence, rather early on, Levi requested –demanded- that Erwin and himself would change names. Not legally, just to anyone they meet that has no access to their ID’s.    
First and last name. Levi’s Erwin Smith, Erwin’s Levi Ackerman.

Blaming his fascination with his younger brother’s mind, Erwin humored him and though now –over a decade later- it feels awkward, dirty, wrong... Erwin keeps playing along with Levi’s game. They’re too far in. Their friends, the cute cashier in the local coffee-shop, the old lady in the library around the corner, all of them know them by the wrong name.   
It’d be a hassle to back out now, and besides, though Erwin is convinced this can not be healthy as it’s been going on for so long... He isn’t sure it’s worth the effort or the stress it’d cause Levi to change it up now.

Levi lives through Erwin. He said this himself plenty of times before when Erwin had tried to convince him that they’d be better of switching back to their birth-given names.

And who is he to rip the kid’s life away?

Their drive home is spent in silence for the most part until Levi hisses something under his breath.

Glancing at him, Erwin’s noticed his negative energy throughout the day, noticed the clenched fists and grinding teeth. He’d foolishly hoped for the boy to snap out of his own tormenting  consciousness .

“What did you say?” Erwin asks before looking back on the road. The world around them is dark, illuminated by the headlights of Erwin’s car that he’d gotten as a hand-me-down from his father.

“I said that thing would be better off  dead .”

Without warning Erwin tugs on the steering-wheel, pulling over rapidly and coming to a sudden halt. He turns in his seat, clicks on the dome light overhead. 

Even Levi seems surprised by the abrupt stop they’d made and he blinks up at Erwin.

“Take that back.” Erwin whispers, noticing only when lifting his finger in a warning manner, that he’s trembling.

The words had shocked him, sure, but moreover scared him. The things that come out of Levi’s mouth just become darker the older he gets and combined with his peculiar obsessions over people, Erwin has been worrying over what Levi might be capable of.   
This isn’t just an edgy teenager, this isn’t just a boy trying to shock with words. No, watching him sitting in his car, wide-eyed and frowning, it is apparent that Levi hasn’t a clue that what he said had been horrific.

“What? What the hell are you being this dramatic for?”

“Because!” Erwin pauses after having raised his voice, having flinched not only at the volume bouncing off the vehicle’s frame but as well because Levi had recoiled.

“You just said you want a newborn baby to be dead.” Erwin hisses, as if saying the words any louder would actually harm Eren.

Again, that frown appears on Levi’s features. This shouldn’t be something to be confused about. Erwin is in the right here, in no circumstance whatsoever is there an excuse to what Levi had said. It’s vile, disgusting, horrifying. Erwin swallows down bile, shudders.

“I was joking.” Levi says, though his words are spoken slow, carefully... methodically, as if he’s trying to measure Erwin’s facial expression in contrast with what letters he’s pronouncing.

Though he doesn’t believe him, Erwin still leans back in his seat, considers the excuse. What else could he expect of Levi? The boy is troubled, but it’s beyond what Erwin could ever mend. 

They gaze at each other for a while before Erwin nods more to himself than to Levi.

“Please don’t make those jokes around me, Levi.” 

Levi’s lips are pressed together and a shadow of rage seems to flash over his features when another car’s headlights reflect inside of the vehicle. It’s gone as fast as it had appeared and though Erwin assures himself that it had been a play of shading and light, the expression on Levi’s face that night stayed with him for the rest of his life.

The white-hot anger. Contorted, misshapen, snarling, his face not belonging to that of a human. That’s what Erwin had witnessed. Yet, even your own eyes  can not be believed, or trusted, especially when witnessing the beginnings of a demon growing right in front of you.

* * *

Three years pass.

Three years in which Carla focuses entirely on her family and not Levi, as is her right. Three years of Levi growing into himself.   
Ever since that night, in the car, a night Erwin had not considered having been so crucial for his own future, Levi’s been distant. Mentally, that is, as physically he still follows his older brother around like a shadow; observing, watching for something Erwin doesn’t know what it is.

Yet, he seems more bitter, more annoyed at the world. And though he’d seemingly been experiencing these emotions before, this time around Levi hides them with even more intent than he had in the past.   
He’s become more difficult to read, Erwin’s noticed, however there’s an aura to him –an atmosphere- that betrays everyone but his older brother.

All in all however, Erwin still believes in the good of people. And even after analyzing and taunting his brother in the past, Erwin’s convinced there’s plenty of good sides to Levi, sides that are stuck behind the wall he’s put up in front of himself.   
All Levi needs is an outreached hand, a pair of unjudgmental eyes and a mouth that speaks truths he wants to hear rather than needs to hear. For now.

So Erwin carries on. Acts like nothing is amiss, invites Levi along with him any time he goes anywhere. And Levi in turn follows; never enjoying himself –seemingly- but observing. Watching for something that Erwin can not know.

Even when Carla tells Erwin she wants to write down his name in her will, just in case something happens to her, to take care of Eren if their family isn’t capable to. Even then does Erwin act like everything is normal. 

Staring down at the contract, signed with Levi’s name and Levi’s signature forged by himself, Erwin’s mind scatters for a solution. Levi wouldn’t ever want to take care of Eren were something to happen to his parents. Yet, Erwin can’t just casually note down his own name without Carla noticing and thinking he’s signing off her child to his younger brother; the one her mother instincts assure her about isn’t capable or willing to care for Eren.

And as he doesn’t see a way out without her growing suspicious or hurt, Erwin assures himself that it’d be rather coincidental for Eren to end up under the last name on the will. And even if so, Erwin could continue on with the Levi act, the only problem being papers and ID’s but in the  end he’d be the one to take care of Eren.

Honored as he might be, Erwin keeps it a secret from Levi. Aware of how bitter the eighteen-year-old has grown over Carla, he decides to keep the copy of her contract in the bottom drawer of his desk. Locked securely.

And yet, on a rainy night in fall, as he comes home to the scent of lasagna, he finds Levi at the kitchen table; casually reading through the contract.

“Where’s dad?” Erwin asks, growing wary of Levi’s calm demeanor, of how all the lights are turned off except a small one overhead the stove.

Levi glances up, though his head remains dipped as he’s hunched over the contract on the table. 

“In the garage.”

Frowning, Erwin isn’t sure why his father would be in a room he hardly spends time in. Regardless, he pulls back a chair, sitting down across Levi.

“I should’ve told you.” Erwin admits.

Levi doesn’t say a word, just flips a page, taking another bite from his food.

“Yes, you should’ve.” Levi agrees eventually.

“How obnoxiously pleased you must’ve been to be chosen by Carla. She chose ‘Levi’... not me.” The younger boy murmurs, tapping the forged signature twice before folding the papers in half and sliding them away with a grimace on his face.

“You know why.” Erwin tries, his skin prickling at Levi’s aura. He’s beyond pissed off. Yet he’s so good at keeping it in check, though Erwin knows he’ll let himself snap at any moment. Yet, what will happen, he isn’t sure.   
Lucky for him, he’s twice Levi’s size and if the boy were to try anything stupid, it’d be simple to overpower him.

The young man’s mouth grows dry at the thought. It’s the last thing he’d want to happen. To have to do.

“Because I despise her?” Levi asks. It’s rhetorical and when meeting his leer, Erwin’s too uncomfortable to answer.

“You’d think that be the reason but, Erwin, Levi, it’s something bigger than that.”

“Is it?” Erwin humors him, though his intonation is bland, his stomach is tight and he finds himself eager to get up and run. It’s ridiculous... it’s his baby brother here, not a stranger, not a scary creature.

Just Levi.

“It’s because you’ve taken over me.” Levi whispers. His palms are placed flat onto the surface of the table, which he leans forward over as he gets up from his seat. The legs of his chair scrape loudly over the  tiles underneath.

“It’s because you had to be loved more than me. Even with my name, people still adore the Erwin, not Levi. Never Levi. Even with your name being Levi, people still are disgusted by me.”

It’s an absurd reasoning, though one Erwin should’ve seen coming. To expect himself to become Erwin, makes no sense... and yet to Levi, it’s the truth, isn’t it?

“Rather than becoming you... I’ve been left behind in your shadow. I’ve been sucked up underneath your skin where no one can see me anymore, no one can hear me and-”

“Levi.” Erwin interrupts him, finding the darkness of his brother’s eyes to be nearly as disturbing as his words. He’s too far in. This is beyond what the man had expected to have been going on in Levi’s mind.

It’s insane.

“You need to stop this.” Erwin states as he gets up, feeling more comfortable now that he’s towering over the small boy. Granted, Levi does not seem intimidated, doesn’t seem to have woken from whatever nightmare is  whirling inside his mind.

“Have you ever stopped to think about how I’ve been a waste of life? The moment I was born I killed my mother. How useless of me. How despicable. Unloveable.”

Growing more annoyed than disturbed by Levi’s rambling, Erwin turns on his heels. It’s best to leave this scene right now before it escalates. His father might be able to help out, if anything. 

Heading to the garage, he ignores how Levi mocks him for ‘always running away’ as he follows him closely.

“I thought becoming you would be the cure to all my problems.” Levi adds when Erwin enters the garage, flicking on the light and glancing around. His father is nowhere to be seen.

“And for a long  time it helped. Living through you, someone who will be successful, who is adored, who is intelligent and attractive. It’s like smelling freshly baked bread after starving yourself for weeks. It’s surprisingly fulfilling. But as well it makes you ache for reality, for more, a bite. For something solid.”

Ignoring Levi’s senseless blabbering, Erwin turns back around.

“Where’s dad?”

Levi meets his gaze, tilts his head sideways and then smiles for a split second.

“He was in your room. When I was. Saw me snooping around; picking the lock of your desk-drawer.” Levi shares, leaning against the open doorway with a shoulder as he has his hands folded behind his back.

“You know he never liked me? Like everyone else, he just sees right through me. The only person I’ve ever been able to fool is you, Erwin. Because you see the good in people, even when they’re rotten to their core, you’re so convinced everyone has a tragic backstory to justify their cursed ways and that love will solve everything...” Levi scoffs.

Erwin presses his lips together, angry and sad at Levi being this deep into his own personal hell.

“But you need to realize...” Levi pushes off his weight, descending the few steps into the garage and it strikes Erwin as peculiar when the boy’s hands remain behind his back even when walking. It’s not a manner of movement he’s seen him do before, ever.

“... Some of us are just, plain evil.” Levi says, shrugging with the hint of a pout on his lips.

“Your dad’s in the trunk, by the way.” Erwin narrows his eyes, heart skipping a beat, a part of him believing Levi.

“We need to have you admitted. You’re not well, Levi.” Erwin whispers, nervously and the hint of a smirk on Levi’s lips shows that the boy can notice the tremble in his older brother’s voice.

“Sure, let’s ask your dad what he thinks about this. I bet he’d love to see me go.”

“Levi...” Erwin warns, growing agitated alongside his apprehension at the boy’s apparent teasing, mocking; amused at something Erwin doesn’t know.

It’s when Levi refuses to move, refuses to look away from him, refuses to wipe the hint of a smirk off his face that Erwin swoops around and hastily walks towards the trunk of his father’s car.

The key is still inserted and Erwin reaches out slowly, turning the object until the trunk unlocks with a click.

There’s plenty of things Erwin expects to see when slowly opening the lid. A part of him expects to see his father tied up and gagged, staring back at him with fear, or anger. Another morbid part of him expects to see the same image, yet with his dad being bloody, pale, unmoving; dead. An even darker part of Erwin expects black trash-bags full of body-parts with blood seeping out to drip onto the concrete floor of the garage.

Yet, he’ll never find out.

Before he opened the trunk far enough to allow the light to seep into the dark container and illuminate whatever’s inside, Erwin’s vision goes black alongside a massive impact on the back of his skull.

He drops down, confused, hazed, disorientated, rolling onto his back to watch Levi coming to stand over him.

His brother rolls his shoulders, cracks his own neck before adjusting his grip on the sledge-hammer he’s holding with both hands.   
The smirk is gone, his eyes are black, his skin pale, angles sharp. Erwin can’t speak, his body in shock after the impact his brain had suffered and he’s so far gone he can’t even understand the words Levi says to him while raising the hammer over his head.

In that moment, Erwin knows he’ll die. Knows that even if something came in between him and Levi lowering the object; his brain is too damaged to ever live a normal life again.    
A side of him feels immense sadness to be gone. Another part of him feels mournful over that he doesn’t know if his father’s okay, that he doesn’t understand what Levi is telling him.

The taste of copper, the sting in his teeth, the scent of metal and the clench of absolute fearsome despair are the last elements to accompany Erwin before Levi brings down the sledge-hammer to his face.


	12. Splitting Worlds

Classes are exhausting. Not because Eren’s been trying to pay attention and study, but because he’s slept about four hours the entire weekend. And it shows, if the teachers leaving him alone when he rests his head on the desk is anything to go off of.   
Not having felt this tired in a long while, Eren nods off throughout most of the Monday, and as a result; the day flies by.

“Finally.” Eren groans with a huff as he drops his weight onto the  matrass of his bunkbed.

“Rough weekend?” Jean asks him, drying off his hair before leaning an elbow on the staircase of their bed. 

Glancing over his shoulder at him, Eren considers rolling onto his back but finds himself too heavy, too lazy and comfortable to even move his lips. Eren hums as a response.

Jean seems to consider a thought, eying Eren for a moment before he moves away, tapping the metal frame of the bed with his knuckles.

“Same here, dude. Partied a lot, still have a hangover.” The bed squeaks as the boy sits down on his own matrass. 

“You should come with me this weekend.” 

At this, Eren perks up, leaning on his elbows as he glances down at his friend.

“To a party?” The younger boy asks.

Jean pauses in drying his hair, letting the towel slide onto his shoulders before tilting his head backwards and looking up to meet Eren’s gaze.   
He grins. His teeth almost as perfect as Eren’s.

“Yeah, man. You can spend some time at my place for the weekend. Parents are home but I’m not out, so... sharing a room won’t be a biggie.” He closes his lips, wiggles his eyebrows and Eren huffs at the thought of doing anything that’d strain his body.

Falling back down on his chest, Eren lays his cheek on folded arms, closing his eyes.

“Sounds good.” Eren agrees, though immediately after wonders if there’s rules set on spending time away from ‘home’ in the weekend. Would Levi mind him staying over at a friend’s?

He hasn’t a clue. And honestly, after the weekend he’d suffered through, after the oddly morbid and sexual dream he’d had about the man, he rather not  go to the cabin for a while.

* * *

The house party is insane. It’s loud, crowded, hot and stinks of alcohol and cannabis and Eren doesn’t desire a redo.    
Regardless, he puts on a smile, follows Jean around who won’t let go of his hand either way and meets too many people to remember the names of.

It’s only when Jean keeps babbling to his friends, arm around Eren’s waist, that the boy excuses himself out of sheer boredom.   
He hates the thrumming noise, the continuous buzz of chatter combined with the music’s repetitive bassline, how everyone has to yell to have anyone understand what they’re saying. It presses on his ears too much, reminds him of the hum that accompanies his hallucinations.

Locking himself in one of the upstairs bathrooms, he’s relieved to note that the distance and the thick, wooden door block out plenty of volume. Only the music’s bass and the distant noise of chatter touch his ears, yet not loud enough to block out the sound of his own breathing.

After relieving himself, Eren washes his hands and takes a moment to stare into the mirror in front of him. His skin is pale in the cold-white light of the small room, his lips are chapped and the bags under his eyes dark. Eren looks like shit.

There’s a fleeting moment in which he feels such uncertainty regarding his future that it causes his stomach to flutter uncomfortably. High school is bland and generic, he has no clue what he wants to ‘be when he grows up’, his friendships seem pointless; fellow teenagers seemingly only interested in partying and getting laid.   
It’s incredibly difficult to form a connection with anyone. For starters, Eren has a hard time opening up to anyone and in turn this makes it complicated for others to understand and possibly bond with him.

He seems so removed from others. Even from Jean with whom he fools around plenty. It’s like there’s a glass wall between himself and the outside world. Nothing can reach him such as he can’t reach anyone or anything. Not genuinely, not fully, or in fulfilling fashion.   
More than frustrating it is causing him to experience a cold and empty loneliness within himself; something he’s never experienced before in all of his fifteen years of being alive.

And there’s the thing... Eren hardly feels alive. His mind doesn’t seem to be conscious, his body numb, his spirit floating about somewhere watching down at him with pity. He’s not here.

The shower-head turns on and Eren jumps at the sudden sound.   
Turning around swiftly to stand with his back against the sink he’d been leaning onto, Eren stares at the shower across of him. The curtain is drawn and soon enough steam from hot water starts to escape the small space.

Did he go inside here without noticing someone being in the bathroom with him?

Hadn’t the shower curtain been opened before?

Narrowing his eyes and pressing his dry lips together, Eren takes a few steps to his left, reaching out to the door-knob without looking away from the shower.   
When his fingers wrap around the handle, metal cold to the touch, Eren hesitates.

There is not a chance anyone is in here with him. He remembers vividly eying the mosaic tiles of the shower when entering, hence the curtain had had to be open and there is not a single space in this tiny bathroom that’d allow anyone to hide from sight. The spray could’ve turned on because of a malfunction, the curtain could’ve been drawn because of... well.   
Eren glances at the small, opened window in the top right corner of the room.

Yeah. Draft.

Letting his hand slide off the door-knob, he inhales a few times, deeply, before stepping forward.

Steam touches his cheeks as he gets closer to the shower curtain to which he reaches out. His fingers touch the cold material and as he takes a hold of it, Eren expects someone to grab his hand from the other side.   
But nothing happens and after a deep breath Eren whips open the curtain, the rings clacking together in rapid fashion. 

There’s no one in the shower. Just steam and the clatter of water hitting porcelain.    
Avoiding the stream, Eren closes the tap before pulling back and turning around.

“Levi!” Eren yelps when being faced with the man himself standing right behind him.

Levi is not at all as surprised as the teenager is and his face is as bland as ever.

“What’re you- doing, here?” The boy’s words fall awkwardly from stiff jaws. His palm rests upon his chest, as if the pressure alone would calm down his heart beat.

Levi glances at the boy’s hand pressed over his chest before he looks back up at him.

“Seeing where the hell you are.”

Reminded matter-of-factly, Eren recalls how he himself had left school earlier today together with Jean, skipping the bus stop where Levi’d be to pick him up altogether.   
A rather crude action, rebellious...

Yet, now, caught in the act –so to say- Eren just grimaces and lowers his head.

“Sorry. I should’ve let you know.”

“Yes, you should’ve.” Levi agrees quietly.

Silence causes the air around them to weigh heavy along with the remnants of steam. Glancing up at Levi shows the man staring at him, his eyes half-lid –as they often are-, his jaw relaxed, head tilted to the side and hands on his hips. Though his body language seems to show disappointment or possible repercussions towards Eren, the man’s facial features feel soft.

Then again, Eren’s been wrong about reading him before and likely is today as well.

“So, you’re staying with a friend.” Levi claims more than asks and Eren doesn’t miss the lilt in his voice when he pronounces the term ‘friend’. It’s spoken too slow, tone too low, mocking or warning.

“Yeah. Jean.”

“Jean.” Levi repeats the name and Eren stirs when Levi’s mouth falls agape, his white teeth bared when his tongue goes to prod one of his canines. It’s  an odd sight, not one he’s witnessed before.

“I see.” Levi adds before glancing over his shoulder at the door behind him.

When the man turns back to face Eren, there’s an urge in the boy to take a step backwards. Yet, he stands his ground, for now, letting his own hand fall away from his chest.

“You guys fucking?”

Eren is absurdly taken aback by the crude wording and directness of Levi’s question. It makes the boy straighten up in confusion more than defensiveness, and his mouth opens and closes repeatedly when trying to find a suitable reply. Not being sure whether or not Levi would have a problem with this plain fact makes it impossible for Eren to answer and instead his teeth clack when he abruptly shuts his mouth.

The silence is enough of a reply, going by how Levi nods to himself, eyelids lowering in a lazy, half-blink. The man hums and the sound  is such a deep rumble that it reminds Eren of the buzz that accompanies his hallucinations.

It’s unsettling.

“Does he satisfy you?”

Frowning at the question, at the inappropriateness of it, Eren wonders if this is enough out of character for Levi to be proof of his own mind conjuring up an illusion at this very moment. The problem lies in that he doesn’t know Levi well enough to be sure.

He pinches himself. Nothing changes.

Does it ever even work?

“No.” Is Eren’s reply and immediately after he tenses up at his own words. Why had he replied? This is none of Levi’s business, it’s far too intimate of a question to ask a fifteen-year-old. And besides, is he even speaking the truth? The answer had come so easily, so automatically, like a man hypnotized.

Levi scoffs, amused at the reply, as he removes his hands from his hips in favor of crossing his arms. He’s scrutinizing Eren. And Eren’s cheeks just grow redder by the second.

“Of course, he doesn’t.” Levi agrees, taking one step closer to the boy. He’d already been standing close to Eren, resulting in this simple movement to have them nearly bump chests. Eren grows more rigid, stiff and awkward as he hardly manages to exhale without the fear of Levi smelling his breath in their proximity.

“How could he when you get hard dreaming of me eating your face?” 

Eren blinks at the man, trying to figure out how Levi could be aware of his dreams when finally realizing that he can’t.

He can’t.

This isn’t real. Again... Or did he pass out? Is he on the bathroom floor, dreaming again? Will Levi rip him apart again?

When the man leans closer, Eren plants a hand against his chest, stopping him. Levi blinks, surprised. 

“Don’t you want me?”

“I don’t know.”

Once again, Eren’s taken aback by his own reply.  Again , he second-guesses whether or not he’s answering truthfully. Does his subconscious know more than the clarity of his mind does? Is he replying from the heart rather than the brain? Ridiculous.

“What do you mean; you don’t know?” Levi asks, frowning so deeply it makes him look too human. Too emotional. Too young. Fingers are wrapped around Eren’s wrist, urging the boy to stop pushing him away. Yet Eren doesn’t budge, leaning back, absurdly afraid the man will bite off his nose, literally.

“I don’t want you to hurt me.” The boy admits, nervous when Levi uses his wrist to pull him closer, reaching up his free hand to clasp it behind Eren’s neck.

“You’d be surprised how pleasurable a little hurt might be.” He whispers, tilting his head sideways as he leans closer to Eren.

Eren’s heart pounds when noticing that Levi is planning to kiss him, dark eyes lowering towards his lips, his blond hair shiny in the bathroom light, his tanned skin soft, his-

“Jean!” Eren yelps the boy’s name, pushing him off before he can kiss him.

“Eren, what the hell?” Jean throws back angrily when hitting his back against the door behind him because of the force with which Eren had shoved him.

It’s Jean. It was Jean all along. How could he have so clearly seen Levi, heard hi s hoarse voice , smelled his aftershave? How did he have a conversation that’d made sense for Levi and him, not Jean and him. What had Jean heard? What did Eren tell him? How can he be sure of what is said or heard or done when he’d just believed Levi’ d been with him? 

How can he trust his own eyes, his own ears?

This is, in a sense, even more disturbing that seeing demons and monsters. With those he’ll experience fear, certainly, and it is horrifying, yes... But, but at least they are conjured up out of basically nothing. At least there’s no logic to them, no reality.

This.

This is horrendous. How can Eren even be sure that he is here in this bathroom, that it is a Friday night, that he’s at a party, that he’s been together with Jean before, that he’s going to school, that his parents died. 

Is Eren even Eren?!

“Dude.” Jean’s voice breaks through his screaming thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

“I need to go.” Eren says, surprisingly out of breath as he goes towards the door behind Jean. 

Though the boy keeps asking him what is wrong, and tries to stop him with a hand on his arm, Eren doesn’t stop pacing until he’s exited the house.

The fresh air is welcoming. Cold and clear and inhaling deeply makes it seem like his brain is losing its fog.

Then again, is he even outside?

Is he here?

“Hey, are you okay?” Jean comes to a stop behind Eren, a soft hand resting itself on his shoulder.

A part of Eren wants to turn towards the boy, collapse against him and lose consciousness. But he’s terrified still; he needs to go to the cabin. To Levi. He needs to know if for some absurd reason, Levi’s communicating with him from a grand distance.

Horribly unlikely but... Eren has lost all sense of reality. His trust in himself is gone and all he wants is to confront Levi about all of this. Ask him why he’s haunting his every thought. Ask him what the fuck is wrong with that place. Ask him if he can tell Eren who Eren is. He wants Levi to prove to him that he himself is alive, existing, here.

“Jean. Please, call me a cab. I need to go home.” 

Though Eren doesn’t look up at the taller boy, Jean still recognizes the seriousness in the situation and after a squeeze in his shoulder, the boy jogs back to the house in search of a phone.

Yet, Jean returns in his own car and though Eren hesitates for a couple of moments, he eventually gets in and tells him to drop him off where the school bus picks him up on Mondays. He’ll have to walk about an hour and half more to the cabin, through a pitch-black forest, but Eren doesn’t care. He doesn’t want Jean to know where he lives, feels it wouldn’t be desired by the reclusive Levi. Perhaps Erwin wouldn’t mind but... he hasn’t seen the man in a while and assumes he’s disappeared again.

Besides, though figments of his own imagination and fears, the Levi he’d hallucinated had not been  happy  about Jean whatsoever. Had seemed displeased, crudely curious.

More than anything, Eren desires to walk the distance, tire himself out fully, get rid of the anxious tightness on his chest and-

They arrive.

“Are you sure you  gonna be alright, dude?”

“Yeah, man.” Eren nods at Jean, glances at him and immediately after opens the passenger door to flee the  likability of more questions being asked.

“Be careful.” Jean calls after him as Eren starts to walk up the street towards the entrance of the forest.

Eren shakes off the eerie memory of those words and prepares for a never-ending walk.

* * *

Never-ending comes close to it. It takes Eren nearly two hours of walking up the dirt road in the dark before he reaches the make-shift parking lot.   
Levi’s car isn’t there.

Eren hesitates. Should he pace back down the road to tease the slight possibility of walking into Levi? Not a smart thought, impatience be damned. It’d be better to go to the cabin, check if he happens to be at home, or perhaps find Erwin and ask him for information of Levi’s whereabouts.

When turning around, Eren bumps face-first into something and when taking a step back, he’s surprised to see Erwin.   
However, the man looks sickly pale, his hair shaggy, and when he smiles at him Eren can see patches of black stuck between his teeth. Squinting in the hopes of figuring out what Erwin’s been eating, Eren has to give up when the man closes his dry lips.

“Erwin. Have you seen Levi?”

Cicadas chirp around them and a breeze makes Eren shiver. 

Erwin glances over his shoulder, pulling them both up when his eyes rest back onto Eren’s features. He looks nervous, like he had back then.

“Erwin?”

“No, have you?” 

Considering whether or not to ask the man if he’s okay, Eren takes a moment before replying.

“No. He isn’t at the cabin?”

“I don’t know.” Erwin’s replies are slurred and slow, his face perpetually displaying confusion and surprise and though it would’ve worried Eren at any other given time, tonight he remains impatient. Distressed. Hungry for answers.

Without another word, the boy passes Erwin by, ignoring the cold that seems to radiate off of him and instead picking up his pace as he ascends the hill. Erwin follows him, his steps at times stumbling, his breathing strained.

Assuming he’s drunk out of his head –though hadn’t seen the man drink once- Eren ignores him as much as possible, for now.

Once arrived, the cabin seems empty of life. Eren turns on lights, walks through the house, calling Levi’s name but everything is dead-quiet.

“Why are you looking for him?” 

Eren nearly jumps out of his skin when Erwin asks him this question while he’d been busy staring into Levi’s pitch-black office; incapable of finding the light switch.    
Not removing his eyes from the dark space, listening for the sound of breathing, or a shuffle, Eren doesn’t reply.

The scent of wet earth meets his nostrils a few seconds before Erwin comes to lean over him. Glancing up at the man behind him, Eren frowns at the dirt inside the man’s ear. The longer he stares, the more specks of earth he can see on him; underneath his nails, between his teeth, on his eyelashes and sideburns.

“Are you okay?” Eren asks quietly.

Erwin glances down at him, noticing the proximity and stepping away. When removing himself, Eren takes note of how his skin once more warms up after it had been chilled by the man’s presence.   
Had Erwin fallen asleep outside while drunk? It’d explain why his pale skin has an almost gray hue, why he’s dirty and ruffled, why he slurs and stumbles.

“Just a splitting headache.” Erwin says, meeting his gaze. A quiet moment follows before, in the blink of a second, Erwin smiles at him widely; dirty teeth bared in a wolfish grin. It falls from his face as quickly as it’d appeared.

So fleeting Eren isn’t sure it even had happened.

When Erwin takes his leave, Eren glances back into the office, somehow convinced there’s something in there watching him... Yet when the man stumbles on the staircase behind him, Eren decides he’s better off making sure Erwin doesn’t go ahead and break his neck.

“Where are you going?” Eren questions Erwin’s intentions as he seems determined to descend the staircase. He holds on to his muscular arm, suppressing a hiss at the cold that bites through the layers of fabric they’re both wearing.

“The garage.” Erwin slurs and Eren has to use all his force to hold him back from trying to step forward.

“Wait. Erwin. We don’t have a garage. You need to lay down and warm up.” His agitation at Erwin’s drunken shenanigans makes room for worry and Levi sinks to the back of his mind as the boy’s new priority is to make sure this tall, heavy specimen is taken care of.

He shouldn’t care, honestly. Though ‘the friendly one’, Erwin –lately- tends to come close to  Levi grade in creep-factor. Which is pretty high up  there.

It takes Eren a few long minutes of softly coaching the man back around, leading him to his own bedroom as Erwin fails to tell him where his own one is located at –if he even has one-.

The boy’s bed positively shrinks when Erwin lays down on it. The man is massive, close to a giant, and it’s peculiar how he remains less threatening than the short, sickly-looking Levi. Making sure every inch, except for Erwin’s face, is covered with a duvet, Eren wonders if he maybe is suffering from the flu.

“You look horrible.” Eren mumbles with a frown, gazing down at Erwin who looks just about ready to either chatter his teeth or keel over altogether.

Erwin, in turn, just chuckles, and the sound comes as a relief.    
After asking him if he needs medication or tea, and receiving negative replies to both questions, Eren awkwardly shuffles his feet towards the bedroom door.

Reaching out towards the handle, Eren is forced to pause when the closet-door to his left creaks as it falls open slowly.   
Glancing over his shoulder shows Erwin staring at him with such an empty stare that the boy believes he’s actually died in bed right then and there.

Yet, he blinks. Eyes incredibly hollow.

“Levi’s in your closet.”

“What?” Eren’s heart skips a beat, ears ringing immediately at the eeriness to his words.

He must be delusional of a flu, not unlike Eren’s delusional on the regular; no viral infection needed.

“He lives there.” Erwin rasps, turning his head and nodding towards the closet that stands ajar.

“He likes to watch you undress. And sleep.”

Considering the words, Eren glances back and forth between the closet and Erwin. His heartbeat is raised, even though his mind assures him these are words spoken by a man fallen ill. What Erwin is saying is exactly what’s been playing in the back of Eren’s mind. The confirmation of his own paranoia makes his stomach clench. He grows queasy.

“I’ll get you some aspirin.” Eren murmurs, eyes wide as he reaches behind him, pawing at the door-handle, too afraid to look away from the man or the closet.

“Levi’s under your bed.” Erwin says as Eren opens the bedroom door and takes a step backwards into the hallway.

“Didn’t you hear him breathe? Didn’t you hear him call for you? He likes to smell you.”

Incapable of ignoring his words, Eren still bites his tongue and with shaky breaths starts to close the bedroom door between them.

“Levi’s at your door. Levi’s with you when you bathe... He likes to watch you undress. He likes to be close to you.” Erwin repeats earlier words, ranting –no- babbling by now and even though the hairs on the back of his neck stand up at Erwin’s next words, Eren bites back the urge to lose himself in his delusions.

“Levi’s behind you.”


	13. Brunet Guts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: gore

Waking up the day after, Eren’s demeanor has changed; settled. He’s woken with a headache, a thrumming in his ears and flashes from last night come back to mind; a sick, hallucinating Erwin, the incident of addressing Jean as Levi at the house-party, walking two hours through the dark and cold to get to the cabin and ask Levi prodding questions which he no longer seems to recall.

Funny how a night’s rest can calm your thoughts this severely, or perhaps it’s to do with the boy’s groggy state. Granted, he’s exhausted.

Yawning, only to stop halfway through because opening his jaws creates an ache in his teeth, Eren rolls onto his back.

Levi stares down at him.

Eren inhales sharply, trying to sit up but with the man’s proximity he decides that leaning awkwardly on one elbow grants more space between them.   
With chin nestled in folded arms which rest on the couch’s back as he’s squatted behind the furniture, Levi blinks at him lazily, gazing down his nose at Eren.

“Welcome home.” He murmurs, his voice exceptionally low, yet still maintaining its peculiar rasp.

“Hey.” Eren replies awkwardly, his body heating up though he isn’t sure why. Anxiety? Uncertainty? Embarrassment? Excitement?

“Where were you yesterday?” 

Though not looking forward to sharing with Levi he’d left him for the prospect of a weekend of partying and fooling around with a high-school friend, Eren’s as well relieved that the man brings up the topic immediately. No need to prolong the anticipation.

“I went to a party with a friend.” Eren replies truthfully, though not mentioning he’d been planning to stay until Monday and then leave to school with Jean.

“Did you have fun?” Levi asks, his gray eyes never glancing away from Eren’s green pair.

“Not really...” The boy murmurs.

At this, the man raises his eyebrows for a split second, his lips form a mildly surprised ‘o’.

“Such a pity.” It’s mocking rather than understanding, yet Eren’s deserving of it and hence he doesn’t glare or snap back at him.

“You know I have an entire collection of hard liquor, if it's intoxication that you desire enough to leave me waiting at the bus stop for hours.”

Flinching mentally at the disapproval, Eren looks away.

“It’s not that.” The boy mumbles, stirring when Levi gets up and rounds the couch at a slow pace. Not comfortable speaking with the man moving from his vision, Eren options to sit up and await the man who comes to lower himself next to him.

Their knees touch.

Eren inhales shakily. Levi glances at him from the corner of his eye, face unreadable.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you know anything. It’s just that I acted on impulse, of sorts.” It’s a half-lie, he’d known on Monday that he’d likely be spending the weekend at Jean’s. Plenty of time to have notified Levi through the house-phone of which he’s sure the number is displayed in his file inside one of the many offices at school.

He’d been selfish, simple as that. He’d been wanting to get out, to forget, to just live like a normal teenager. Just a weekend of thoughtless and harmless –yet dubiously legal- events.

“That’s okay.” Levi murmurs softly and Eren freezes, heart skipping several beats when a pale hand creeps onto his knee; stroking slowly, massaging the joint.

Glancing at Levi shows the man looking down at his own hand on the boy’s leg, eyes empty as if his thoughts are far away.

“Levi?” Eren tries carefully, voice a mere whisper and he can’t help himself from flicking his sight to every corner of the room, looking for something eerie, off.

The fingers on his leg move with slow pressure, rubbing firm ly but at a lazy pace  –prodding-  and though the boy’s entire body experiences a pleasant heat within, he still grabs Levi’s cold hand when it moves up his thigh.

“Levi.”

The man glances up at him. Blinks.

“What?” He asks, but almost before ending his question he seems to notice his own hand’s whereabouts and pulls away as if burned.

“Sorry.” Levi mutters before getting up quickly. A part of Eren wants to tell him it is okay, a part of him that hates to see anyone experience awkward or negative emotions because of him –even though he has every right to stop a man from touching his thigh-. Yet, something about Levi’s behavior, about his lazy, dark eyes and his relaxed attitude convinces him not to.

It seems dishonest. Or is he  imagining this? Did Levi just give him a comforting pat on the leg rather than a dubious rub?

Pressing his lips together to hold back the voice that wants to call the man back, Eren observes Levi leaving the dim living room; smoothly swallowed by the hallway’s shadows. Yet, his body shifts before fully disappearing, as if he turned around in the last moment and it forces Eren to keep staring into the hallway for many seconds before he thinks he can still see him.   
Though the image is unclear, shifting continuously with the strain put on his retina, Eren can place a vague blob of paleness where Levi’s face could be.

Is he still there? Watching? 

Erwin’s words ring in his head; ‘He likes to be close to you.’. They’d been rambled, sure, yet there could’ve been truth to them.

Blinking causes the blob to disappear momentarily before it slithers back into the pitch-black and the boy’s heart thumps rapidly when he eventually witnesses a sharp-toothed, unnaturally-wide grin near the bottom of the patch, narrow eyes towards the top.

“Levi?” Eren calls, his voice quiet, though loud enough for the man to hear if he indeed is standing in the hallway; leering at him.

He could get up... Walk around the couch and towards the hallway, see for himself if the face is real. And yet, as always, something holds him back from acting on curiosity and desires. Like this house puts a suffocating filter on him, only letting thought-through aspects seep between make-shift pores.

How tedious.

Blinking a few more times results in the face disappearing entirely and Eren finds himself able to exhale.

“Fuck this entire place.” He grumbles to himself, turning back around in the couch and staring out in front of him.

Though the skin on the nape of his neck prickles with the idea that Levi –something- is watching him from the hallway behind him, Eren still forces himself to collect his thoughts. More particularly, last night’s thoughts.   
He recalls the bathroom scenario, a hallucination that had been so realistic, so sudden and so ‘normal’ compared to other ones, it’d taken him by surprise when confronted with Jean. Later on, Erwin, looking like death washed over, rambling at him about all the aspects Eren had worried about before. About all the times creatures and hallucinations had haunted him at night and in the back of his mind, certainly, he’d suspected Levi at times.

Levi is the creature, after all. Isn’t he?

And Erwin, though not as trust-worthy as believed before, remains ‘the friendly one’.

Levi’s in the cabin. Eren’s reminded by hearing him whistle in the distance; likely from the kitchen. He could go over to him, ask him the questions he had for him last night, question he lost when waking up. Memories and the creepy atmosphere of being back here fuel his morbid curiosity, his desire for answers, and Eren finds himself re-energized to get some clarity.

Even if everything’s in his head, he just hopes his delusions lie to him, soothe him. Fake peace, after all, is more wanted than horrendous truths. Eren wonders if that makes him a coward, and if so, when had he become one?

Had he not been rebellious, proud and stubborn once? Does he remember himself wrong? Is he not the boy he thinks he is?

Rubbing his hands over his face, Eren leans his elbows onto his knees, the pressure of which reminds him of Levi’s hand. Why had he touched him there? It’d been so odd, so slow, meticulous, more predatory than seductive. And yet even with that knowledge, the effect created on Eren had been just that; seduction.

He’d enjoyed it. Kind of. Right?

Getting up from the couch, Eren’s determined to follow the whistling.

The sound lures him into the kitchen, which to tradition, maintains its grim and dim illumination. Levi’s not present and a glance into the backyard shows no Levi either, no car. Gazing at the staircase, Eren feels his stomach drop, just the sight of it –for some reason- making him feel nauseas as his vision forces the steps to wobble and distance themselves from him.

He keeps still until hearing a floorboard creak over his head and after a shaky breath combined with squeezing his eyes shut, the boy steps towards the staircase.   
With a hand on the railing, he begins to ascend, every step causing the wood underneath to groan. The sound is close to human and causes Eren to grimace as he continues his way up.

Once upstairs, the boy again –instinctively- halts, perks his head as he listens for the whistling which has disappeared. The quiet is pressing, as if the air around him has been wavering here for years, still and thick, eager to squeeze his lungs and crawl into his ears; nestling, whispering.   
Itching his ears momentarily, the boy steps towards his own bedroom, wondering about Erwin.

Unlike what he’d expected, his bed isn’t abandoned. Rather the hump of a large body lies beneath his blanket. Pressing his lips together in disapproval of Erwin having hidden his entire head underneath the sheets, the boy enters his bedroom.    
Making sure to leave the door open behind him, he paces closer to his bed until watching the lump closely, waiting for it to move. Before he can worry too much, the shape increases in size slightly, the sound of a soft inhale coming to meet the boy’s ears.

He’s breathing. He’d survived one hell of a flu. For now.

“Erwin.” Eren calls in a whisper, distracted from his goal of talking to Levi in favor of checking on ‘the friendly one’, just in case.

The man doesn’t reply, deep asleep and though he turns around to leave the room, something gnaws at Eren to ‘make sure’. Make sure he is okay. Moreover, make sure it is in fact Erwin laying there. Make sure  he’s  not hallucinating once again.

Go ahead, just make sure.

Reaching out towards the blanket, though his body’s still pointed towards the door –to play safe-, Eren holds his breath. The action of having inhaled beforehand, draws a lingering scent to his nose, that of copper and a stench that rings familiar though he can’t place it. Something full. Fleshy.

Having caught the waft causes Eren to hesitate when he’s taken a hold of the blanket. He stares down at the lump, starts to see a stain hidden within the earth-tones of the sheet’s design.

Eren’s mind, as paranoid as it is, immediately goes to suspect the patch to have been caused by seeping blood. Yet, Erwin had not been wounded, had he? Or had he hidden his injury from Eren? Trying not to worry him. Had his flu actually been the reaction to a starting infection rather than a plain virus?

But Erwin maintains his breathing; calm and rhythmic, no telling rasp or wheeze to it. Just the normal in- and exhales of a man asleep.

Is it an old stain?

Eren let’s go of the blanket, reaches out towards the liquid patch, brushing finger-tips over it and growing rigid when warm wetness touches his skin. Turning his hand around and spreading the liquid around, Eren spontaneously breaks out into a sweat when seeing the crimson hues.

Biting back the fear he’s experiencing, Eren resolutely takes a hold of the blanket and pulls it off in one swift motion.

Revealed to him is not Erwin. It’s nothing human to begin with. Nor is it a wolf dressed in grandmother’s clothing.

It’s slabs of entrails.

Endless amounts of gut knot together in a completely irresolvable mess, ribbons of flesh and strings of muscle, a slab of something dark-brown, glossy, resembling a liver. It’s a mountain of browns and reds, writhing and slithering about as they’ve been revealed, slick with blood and yellow lumpy pieces of fat.   
The scent radiating off of it is warm, fleshy and full. Thick.

Atop it all; a single heart, full and round, paler than it should be with blue veins protruding.

Eren immediately doubles over and spills what little remains in his stomach onto the floor, falling onto his knees.

With ears ringing, with the world around him swirling, spinning, Eren can feel the blood drain from his head, leaving his face cold and numb. He recognizes the warning signs and manages just barely to direct himself away from his vomit as he loses consciousness.

* * *

Eren wakes in his bed, the room is lit by the outside sun and though he isn’t sure what day it is, it’s apparent it’s around noon.   
Memories come to him in quick succession, images of guts, of blood and flesh and though nothing can be felt around or underneath him, he still has to check by lifting the blanket.

Dressed in pajamas, Eren as well notices how much he smells of soap and knows he’s been cleaned, can feel it on his skin, his hair. The thought of him having been bathed by Levi or Erwin without remembering a single thing, is disturbing to say the least.   
Glancing towards the floor, there’s a slightly darker patch on the wooden boards where he remembers having vomited. He can smell the cleaning product when inhaling.

It’s unlikely that what he’d seen in the bed had been real. Even though his sheets have been replaced, that is likely because Erwin slept in them beforehand.   
His hallucinations have changed... There’s no warning thrumming in his ears. There’s not a single sign he can catch that betrays the delusion before it swallows him whole.

He no longer can be sure that even this, somewhat serene moment, is entirely real any longer.

Staring up at the ceiling, Eren tries to remember what life had been like before he came here. What had his parents been like? What had his old house been like? What about his friend Mikasa, what about his grandmother? His old school, his childhood, any other friends he’s had. What about all of that?

He can’t remember.

Sitting up, Eren rubs a hand over his face, then proceeds in pinching his arm as hard as he can. Nothing changes. He does it again; nothing changes. And again. Again. Again. Until his entire left arm has become blotched with red patches that leave a dull ache behind.

The boy pants. He’s exhausted, heavy, dizzy, and his nose prickles. His heart wants to weep for himself but his mind remains dull. How can he shed tears when there’s no person behind the grief? Eren’s entirely lost. Like he’s never had an identity to begin with.   
It feels like a simulation, meaningless and without a free will. Like the cable could be pulled on him at any moment and he’d be either gone forever or he’d wake up an entirely different person.

Like a bad, fucking, never-ending nightmare.

It takes him an hour of sitting up and listening to absolutely nothing before Eren drags himself out of bed and paces towards the bathroom. The floorboards are cold underneath his bare feet, they creak and groan, betray his presence to any monster out there desiring to kill him.   
And today, he wouldn’t care. 

“Eat me.” Eren murmurs sourly, though the meaning of the words is more literal than it’s cursing.

“Eren.”

No matter his numb state, Eren still jumps when Levi swings open the bathroom door as he was about to reach out towards it.

They stare at each other and Eren’s tired of it. Tired of the gazing, of the touching knees, of the wolf and the creep and the feigned kindness.

“Who are you?” The boy asks him and Levi tilts his head sideways, frowns at him.

Of course, the question doesn’t make sense to a man not tortured by constant hallucinations. Levi likely knows exactly who he is, probably knows who Eren is as well, and that changes the boy’s desire.

“Who am I?” Eren changes his question, doesn’t step aside when Levi moves closer, hinting that he wants to exit the bathroom. The boy is blocking his path and though Levi’s been such a creepy creature before, in this moment Eren finds himself annoyed at him, finds himself towering over him in their close proximity.

“Eren, did you take something?”

This time around, Levi catches him off guard with the unexpected question.

The man grabs the boy’s chin between the knuckle of his bent index-finger and the tip of his thumb; pulling down his head towards him so he can stare into his eyes.

“What?”

“Your pupils are blown. Did you take something?”

“No. I didn’t, why would I?” Though trying to pull away, Levi tugs him back in place, reaching up with his other hand, placing a thumb under the boy’s right eye and pulling down the skin.

“Stop it.” Eren grows oddly defensive, against his own judgement, shoving Levi off of him and taking a step back.

Peculiar, how quickly his demeanor once more is influenced by Levi.

Yet, even though it’s unpleasant; Eren feels more sober with the confrontation. The human interaction, the Levi that acts normal –the one that doesn’t grow creepy grins or stands still for hours- it's refreshing after what he’d seen before he’d passed out.

“Did I puke?”

“Yeah, you did.” Levi confirms with a nod, lips pressed together, furrowed brow still betraying worry, though Eren’s paranoid mind isn’t sure whether or not it’s genuine or not.

“I cleaned it.” He adds with a slight grimace on his pale features.

“Sorry.” Eren murmurs. It’s automatic. A word he has to say in order not to squirm in place.

“It’s nothing.” The man assures with a calm tone to his hoarse voice before finally looking away from Eren as he walks closer. This time around the boy steps aside, allowing him to pass him by into the hallway.

Without another word spoken between them, Eren enters the bathroom, locking the door behind him and sitting down on the closed toilet seat. Why had he come here in the first place? He can’t remember.

With chin cradled in the palms of his hands, Eren stares out in front of him, noticing only after an abundance of stretched out minutes that there’s a single, short brown strand of hair nestled between the bathtub and a floor tile.

Sinking onto his knees, the boy plucks up the hair, stares at its color, at its length, concluding after many moments that it might’ve come from an animal. It’s close to his own brunet color, yet far too short, crescent shaped like fur.

‘The same animal that had carried those entrails inside of it?’ Is a thought that spooks through Eren’s mind for a split second.

Ridiculous.

For all he knows, his fucked-up head is imagining even this strand of hair.

Besides, it’s not unusual to have hairs of other people or animals stuck to your clothes when going about in the world.

‘Stop being ridiculous, Eren.’ The boy  berates himself, scowling and standing up.

But then as well, does his brain tease him with the plan to check laundry... check trashcans... check outside.   
If there’d been a mountain of guts in his bed before, they’ve had to have been dumped elsewhere.

Yet, how long had he been asleep? At least a day passed since it’s noon already. Plenty of time to dispose of unwanted insides.

As fast as his suspicions had risen, do they settle down into apathetic assumptions. 

Why in hell would anyone leave a dead animal’s entrails in his bed anyways?

Why in the hell would anyone or anything do this to him, in the real world?

Exactly, there’s not a single reason for it.

Just his own, demented and paranoid delusions.


	14. Dirty Shovels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: homophobic slur (the f- word) and scene where someone pukes (not too detailed, but still in there)

Watching Eren leave in the state of mind he’s in, worries Jean.   
Yet, they’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks and he’s not certain if holding Eren back in this moment would be the best thing to do. Matter of fact, Jean hasn’t a clue as to how to deal with the situation and hence can only call a ‘be careful’ out to the boy who is making his way uphill from the bus stop.

Jean wonders for a moment where Eren actually lives. Jean’s had his home in this town his entire life and knows that up the street you can only go left to enter the forest or right to enter an industrial estate.   
Leaning with an elbow on the roof of his car, he considers going after him. Eren was horribly upset, confused, disorientated and all Jean can conjure up in his own reasoning is that someone might’ve slipped something in Eren’s drink.

But then again, Jean isn’t brave. Nor does he care enough to lie awake about all of this. Eren’s a cool kid, don’t get him wrong, but... that’s that. To Jean, Eren’s closer to a stranger than a close friend and if it weren’t for his pretty face and their midnight heavy pettings, he wouldn’t have looked twice.

Their paths separate here, as is decided by some unholy fate, and Jean just wants to get back to the party.   
To be honest –in ugly fashion- Jean had hoped for some messing around in the car when Eren had demanded he’d wanted to go home. A part of him had even believed that once at Eren’s; he’d be able to calm him down and kiss him into submission; take it a step further than their regular hand- and blowjobs.

“No luck tonight.” Jean mumbles to himself before he gets back in his car. He scowls at how Eren’s left the passenger door open, making him lean over and stretch out to pull it shut.   
That’s Eren for ya. Bit of a wild sport, if you ask Jean. His mind seems far too chaotic to do him good. But that’s what’s also attractive about the brunet; there’s adventure to be had with his brewing attitude.

Jean likes the rebellion he can see within. Though, something seems to filter it often.

Driving back onto the empty road, preparing for half an hour of absolute boredom, Jean blasts music through the speakers of his car-radio, singing along, buzzed and careless.

He’s young, hasn’t a worry on his mind, can look forward to a weekend of partying and hooking-up and getting drunk off his mind and then he’ll-

Jean swerves his car when spotting a pair of eyes meeting his in the rear-view mirror. He pulls over abruptly, hits the curb, manages to come to a sudden halt and though the music is still blaring and though the eyes are no longer seen; Jean’s too late to turn around.

An impact. Surroundings grow dark. He faints.

* * *

Jean’s disorientated when waking up. He’s hazed, a dull ache in the back of his head barely breaking through the fog in his skull. It takes him ages to figure out where he is, mostly because he has no memory after dropping Eren off after the party.

Yet, something went badly, or a tasteless prank’s being pulled on him.

There’s something placed over his mouth, sealing it, preventing him from making a sound other than muffled moans. His shoulders ache as well as his arms which have been pulled behind his back. Moving his hands makes him wince, rough rope scratches his wrists. His ankles, however, are free to move. Yet, the space he’s in is so confined that he can’t even stretch his legs.

Jean breaks out in a sweat. He kicks, the sound dull, muffled by the noise of tires rolling over gravel.   
This combined with rocking motions finally allows Jean’s dazed mind to figure out he’s trapped in a moving car.

But it’s so dark that...

A trunk. He’s locked in the trunk of a car.

With this knowledge finally processed, Jean tries to call out, kicks weakly as his legs haven’t got enough room to build up enough speed or strength and  eventually he wriggles violently. Rolling onto his back only causes his arms to hurt even more and with numb hands he turns back onto his side.

‘Shit, shit, shit.’

This has got to be a prank, surely. Why the hell would a seventeen-year-old be goddamn kidnapped? His parents aren’t excessively rich for ransom, he doesn’t have any enemies and he sure as hell isn’t ‘cute’ enough to fall victim to some dirty old man. So, then why?

A prank, right?

But if it’s being pulled by his  friends they know about how terrified he is of being confined in small spaces. They wouldn’t put him through this! This goes beyond a prank.

Finding it difficult to breath with the tape over his mouth and the heat his body is creating within the small, metal space, Jean begins to panic.

It takes an endless amount of time spent by moving around violently and muffled screaming before the car rolls to a stop.   
Jean feels relieved rather than fearful, still believing this has to be a joke pulled on him by some friends who are too cruel for their own good. But anything would be forgivable if they’d just open the trunk and pull off the tape from his mouth.

He craves fresh air, craves to get up, escape. 

The engine turns off, a door opens, footsteps appear, the door is slammed back shut.

Jean listens to the steps rounding the car, closes his eyes to calm himself down and grows almost tearful when the single person comes to a stop at the trunk.

The stranger knocks on the metal twice, like one would on a door and Jean’s eyes flash open, agitated. He throws back a muffled insult, banging his knee against the closed lid.

“Yeah  yeah .” A male voice murmurs –annoyed- outside of the car. Jean frowns, tries to recognize the peculiar rasp to it but can’t place a single person he knows to match the sound.

The trunk unlocks, pops and soon enough it’s lifted open to reveal a pale, dark-haired man looking down at him.

Jean stares up at him, frowns, tries to recognize the person who is much older than any of his friends are.

A big part of him still expects some familiar faces to pop into view, grinning down at him, laughing at how scared he looks.

But nothing happens.

Just this man, taking his hand off the lid in favor of leaning down on the trunk’s edge, leaning over Jean and tilting his head sideways; thoughtfully.

“You made quite the ruckus.” He says.

‘Who the fuck  are you?!’ Is what Jean wants to say, but it only comes out as a muffled whine.

“What?” The stranger asks, placing two fingers behind his ear as he turns his head as if to listen more closely.

‘Fucking creep!’ Jean, again, tries to say.

“Well, I’m glad you’re apologizing.” The raven-haired man says dryly before reaching out to him and grabbing Jean by the back of his shirt.

Though trying to pull away and fight against him, the short man is deceptively strong and Jean ends up being dragged out of the trunk hard-handedly before he tumbles to the ground.   
Trying to get up proves to be futile as the stranger makes quick work of planting a foot upon his chest, shoving him back onto the dirt beneath.

Uncertain as he might be of his identity and intentions, Jean can feel anger brewing inside of himself, eager to punch this asshole square in the face.

The man above him tuts, likely noticing the furious scowl on his features.

“We are  gonna go for a walk, you... and I.” The man begins and Jean doesn’t want to allow him to speak, doesn’t give a shit about what he is saying. He tries to get up and once more the man stomps his foot back down on his chest, flattening him.

“And you, Jean  Kirschtein , are going to behave.”

Hearing someone he doesn’t know pronounce his full name in such a warning tone forces the boy to pause in his desire to get up and roundhouse kick him in the jaw.

“Don’t tempt me.” He adds, smiles in short and swift fashion before his face falls back into a bland expression.

With a pounding heart and tight stomach, Jean allows the man to pull him onto his feet, though shakes off his hand once standing. Jean’s a head taller than him, could easily take him out if his hands were loose and though his hormonal anger urges him to headbutt him right then and there, Jean realizes he should lay off just for now.

A glance around shows only his own car and an endless stretch of trees and bushes. They’re in a forest, though it’s impossible to tell which one and how deep within. The curling, rocky road has ended, leading into dense nature, impossible to cross by any form of transport other than your own two feet.   
The moon above is full, a pale blue-white, illuminating just barely enough for him to be able to see ahead.

Everything’s quiet. Not even a breeze to rustle leaves.

Just silence.

The stranger walks up to him, going to touch him and Jean takes a step back before realizing the man’s aiming for the tape on his mouth. He pinches a corner of it, pauses, their eyes meeting.

“Don’t make me regret this.” He speaks in a soft tone that doesn’t match the darkness of his eyes, nor the tightness Jean can see within the muscles of his jaws.

In one swift motion he rips off the tape and Jean instinctively inhales before shouting for help.

He can call out twice before a hand crosses his cheek, the slap so loud it not only echoes around them but as well has Jean seeing white dots in his vision momentarily. His ears ring. The impact absurdly great.

“It’s not that I’m fearful someone might hear you. It’s just that your obnoxious voice sounds like someone is taking a shit in my ears.” The man murmurs with a slight scowl, massaging the palm of his hand as the slap had been so  hard he’d apparently hurt himself in the process.

Jean stares at him, tries to figure out whether or not the man’s being serious.

“Likewise.” The boy throws back.

“Eren seems to enjoy it quite much.”

This, above anything else, catches Jean’s attention.

“You know Eren?”

The man nods as he retrieves rope from the trunk and proceeds to pace towards Jean.

“Has he never told you about me?” He asks in turn. Going to tie another rope around the restraints on his wrists, Jean tries to avoid it. Yet, the man shoves him, mumbling to stay still and does whatever he’d intended.

“No. He never told me about his creepy forty-year-old friend.”

The man scoffs behind him before nudging him forward. With a make-shift leash connected to Jean’s wrists, they walk forwards, deeper into the forest, away from the road.

“Thirty.” Is his only reply. 

It’s surreal. Jean wonders for a moment if he’s dreaming. The conversation between them is so calm and why is he allowing himself being led to a destination that promises no good outcome whatsoever?   
What is he supposed to do?

“Who are you? Where are we going? What are you planning to do?” Jean rambles, gazing over his shoulder at the man walking multiple steps behind him, rope looped around his waist to ensure Jean wouldn’t simply tug it from his hands. Even if he did, where is he to run?

“I’m Levi. We’re going somewhere for a talk and I’m planning to figure out what your intentions with Eren are.”

“Look, dude...” Jean starts, putting together pieces of a puzzle he can vaguely begin to see. This Levi must be a boyfriend Eren failed to mention to him. A jealous and possessive and fucked up one at that. But if he thinks Jean’s out to steal Eren away from him, he’s got it all wrong. 

“Eren and I. It’s not a big deal. We just did some experimenting but I didn’t know he was seeing anyone else, man. I’m not here to disrespect your boyfriend and your relationship, at all, dude. Like I can quit this immediately, I don’t care. We didn’t have anything deep going on.”

Levi stops walking, the rope between them stretching taunt until Jean as well is forced to stop.   
Turning around to face the man shows disgust on his features. Jean freezes in place.

“I don’t need to know what you fags have been up to.” He hisses, face distorted entirely, shadows causing it to appear almost demonic. Yet, his features calm down immediately after having spoken the words, expression once more unreadable.

“And Eren’s not my boyfriend. But he  _ is  _ mine. And no one touches what’s mine.” Eyes locked, Levi doesn’t say another word, only juts out his jaw whilst tilting his head lightly, urging Jean wordlessly to continue walking.

“Listen, Levi, can I call you Levi? I would’ve never touched Eren had I known he was yours.”

It’s a slight lie. Jean has little respect for relationships, has fooled around before with people who’d been in relationships. It takes two, after all. Yet, had he known Eren was seeing an absolute homophobic psychopath, he wouldn’t have even looked at the boy to begin with.

“Shut up.” Levi scolds, demeanor a lot less morbidly playful than it had been before. Jean has hit a nerve... He wonders if this could be his way out. It’s becoming clearer by now that there’s no prank being pulled. It’s becoming obvious that he’s legitimately been kidnapped by an insane, possessive man who claim Eren is his’ and getting out of the situation requires for him to keep eyes and ears open.

By now it’s apparent Levi’s not comfortable about homosexuality and though Jean’s unaware whether or not Eren and him have slept together or have anything romantic going on between them, it’s something to remember as to not have this dude freak out and attack him out here where there’s no living being in sight.

Jean exhales, his body trembling.

He wonders if Levi’s someone he could influence with soothing words, could he turn this man around? Or is there no chance and should he try and escape altogether? Jean’s never been good at psychology classes, he lacks some empathy as well and finds it hard to figure out what people want to hear rather than need to hear.

This is a shit situation to be in as is, even more so when your emotional intelligence is nihil.

They walk for a few more minutes in which Jean forces himself to be patient, allowing this stranger’s agitation to settle down. Yet, he’s impatient by nature, fails to let the silence stretch for longer than a handful of moments.

“I need to take a piss.” Jean lies, stopping in his tracks and turning around to face Levi.

The shorter man stares at him lazily. Scoffs.

“Go ahead.”

“Can you untie my hands for one second so I can take a leak?” Jean asks, not able to keep the bite from his tone. This fucking prick...

“Do I look like an idiot to you? I don’t care that you have to piss. Shit your pants for all I care.” 

Jean scrutinizes Levi for a moment, trying to foresee how much attitude he can let seep through.

“Listen, man. Can you just undo my hands for a minute? They’re completely numb and my arms hurt.”

Levi gazes at him for long moments, moments in which only silence and the scent of wet dirt accompanies them. And for a second, Jean is hopeful, for a second he believes Levi’s considering it.

“Keep walking.”

The reply infuriates the boy. Jean tugs his wrists, tries to get loose before he runs towards Levi, intending to drop-kick him, tackle him, whatever it is he can do to wipe that dead expression off his pale, ghostly face. 

Yet, Levi avoids impact, instead grabbing Jean by his shoulders, swinging up a knee and bringing it into contact with the boy’s stomach hard enough to have him hurl alcohol and snacks he’d consumed at the party.   
The splatter of contents onto dirt is loud between them, as is the ghastly heaving before Jean sinks onto his knees. He pants, the acid burning his nose, he spits out the remains stuck between his teeth, tears in his eyes.

The sour taste lingers between them like a reality. A confrontation.

He’s not getting out of this.

“Try something stupid again and you won’t live to tell about it.” Levi whispers, confident enough to lean down over him, nose touching the shell of Jean’s ear. He could swing his head, break the prick’s nose, he could even sink his teeth into his throat and rip out the flesh; let him bleed to death while he drags them both back to his car.

Jean shivers at his own thoughts. He’s not himself. But this isn’t an everyday occurrence either... It’s impossible to foresee your own thoughts and instinctive reactions when forced into such an absurd scenario.

“What do you want from me?” Jean whispers  back, voice raspy with his throat having been damaged by bile.

Levi squats down next to him, leans an elbow onto the boy’s shoulder, heavily.

“Vengeance.”

Jean glances at him, frowns at the serious expression on his features illuminated only by the pale moon seeping through leaves of trees. A mosaic-like pattern rests upon Levi's face. His eyes, this close-up, Jean can tell are gray rather than the earlier perceived pitch-black.

“Vengeance for what? What did I do to you?” Jean asks him, his voice breaking as he’s beginning to grow rather desperate as he can’t find a way out. The only thing he can do is talk... not piss him off  while doing so.

Jean’s fucking born to piss people off... He has little self-control, a shit attitude and a  punchable face. He knows this. He knows... yet still... There has to be some forgiveness in this world for him. Right?

“What did you do to Eren?” Levi returns his question, deformed.

“What are you talking about? I did nothing to Eren. I don’t understand why you’re doing this. What do you want?”

Levi exhales heavily, the sound startling Jean for some reason. He’s on edge. This man looks too calm. Too collected. His  mind’s made up... Yet, Jean hasn’t a clue as to what Levi’s decided upon and  doubts he’ll get it out of him.

“Your puke stinks.” Levi murmurs, pulling up his nose before getting up.

He reaches out a hand towards Jean. A mocking gesture considering the boy’s hands are tied behind his back.   
Levi waits, then blinks and huffs in amusement once.

“Oops.” He deadpans before grabbing Jean by the elbow and helping him back onto his feet.

They continue walking, Levi steering him every now and then by nudging him hard enough to be considered jabs. It goes on forever, Jean asks him what he wants, what is going to happen, he even begins to plead with him to just let him go –promises to not tell anyone about this, not even Eren- and yet Levi remains quiet.

After having tried all tactics; anger, fighting, begging, conversing... There’s not much left for him to do other than grow desperate.

Especially when they come to a halt on top of a hill, dense with trees and bushes except for a bare patch of earth.

“I went ahead and prepared the ground a bit.” Levi says before taking a few steps to Jean’s right, bending over and retrieving something from a nearby bush.

Jean pales at the sight of a shovel Levi holds up meaningfully. For a long moment Jean expects to be beaten to death by it, however, Levi tosses it at his feet.

“What... what is this?” Jean asks, his mouth is dry, his stomach queasy and all he can do is watch Levi untie the rope from his waist. There’s a split second in which his brain urges him to run, now, the rope’s loose, go, run  run run fucking run!

But what can he do? He’ll trip in no time in the dark and uneven ground. He’ll get a shovel to the back of his head once he’s down, surely. Running isn’t an option... Only his words could bring a change to this situation... Or a weapon.

Glancing down at the shovel, Jean allows Levi to tie the rope securely around a nearby tree, allowing the man free rein, yet leaving Jean contained once again.

Yet, when Levi does in fact undo the restraints on his wrists, Jean doesn’t think about it for a second. He leaps forward towards the shovel, going to pick it up. Yet, Levi behind him shoves him forward with a foot, causing the boy to fall down entirely and as he rolls onto his back, swinging the shovel around; Levi easily dodges.

More so, the man grabs the wooden stick from him and like feared before, Jean gets hit against the side of his head by the metal end of the tool.

His ears ring like they had before, white splotches in his sight like before, disorientation, nausea, fear. Fear, so much fear it numbs the pain.

“For fuck’s sake, Jean.” Levi’s voice sounds distant through the buzzing inside of his ears.

Blinking away the white specks, Jean watches the man’s feet clad in black leather shoes –dirtied by mud- pace around him slowly.

“I told you to not make me regret this.” The man adds, the volume of his voice slowly growing louder as the noise in his ears settles.

Levi tuts, as if disapproving of a child with its hand in the cookie-jar. In this moment, Jean feels hopeless. It’s absolutely certain to him now that he’s completely fucked. There’s no fighting this man and he’s pissed him off one too many times... This time around, without exception, he needs to contain his emotions. Just talk... Just talk to him. All people can be influenced by speech alone. This one as well, right?

Jean shudders, recoils, when Levi squats down atop of him, feet flanking his hips.

“Give me your hands.” Levi demands softly, elbows leaning on spread knees, a rope stretched taunt between pale hands.

Looking up at him, face almost entirely hidden in the night as the moonlight creates an unfitting glow behind his head, Levi appears as a being that does not belong in this world. It might be the blow to his head, but Jean loses all hope for a good outcome in that very moment.

Levi can’t be reasoned with. He’d have more of a chance fighting off a Grizzly bear.

Lifting his hands weakly, watching Levi tie them back together, Jean can feel tears rolling from the outer-corners of his eyes.   
Levi connects the rope tied at the tree to the make-shift hand-cuffs before standing up and pulling Jean with him.

They stare at each other for a moment and Jean can see Levi glancing at the tears that keep rolling down his cheeks. But the man doesn’t mention them, his eyes remain empty, face expressionless. He’s as dead inside as Jean soon will be.

He can feel it.

The air around them grows cold. A breeze picks up at last. Movement in the night, urging Jean’s story-line to move forward to its last paragraphs.

Levi hands him the shovel.

“Start digging, Jean.”


	15. Gaping Voids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the comments and kudos!

Life carries on as it does. It doesn’t consider Eren, it doesn’t consider what he’s going through or how much time is needed to recuperate from what he’d been through during the weekend.   
Monday creeps close and before feeling even remotely awake, Eren sits in the passenger seat of Levi’s car as they drive to the bus stop. 

Levi’s quiet, has been keeping to himself for the most part, as if granting Eren some peace of mind. It taunts Eren with the high likeability that Levi, after all, is the sole cause of the deterioration of his mental state. 

And if so, Eren’s only hope for a bright future is to get away from him. 

Yet... 

Something... something masochistic, something sickly curious, something morbid rooted deeply inside of him, urges him to wait a little longer.   
Eren’s a minor, he could easily accuse Levi of abusing him, molesting him, to a school councelor and he’d be taken away from him in no time. 

So, why doesn’t he? 

Since he’s met this man, everything’s went downhill... His common sense –apparently- as well. 

“What?” 

Levi’s voice notifies Eren that he’d been staring at the man for hell knows how long. 

“You make me feel horrendous.” Eren says blandly and feels some sadistic satisfaction when Levi’s jaw drops slightly. 

“What the hell?” The man throws back before flicking on his blinker and pulling over. 

Parked beside the road, forest to their right, field to their left, Eren watches the man closely. 

“You creep me out. There’s something wrong with you and it’s making my brain shudder out hallucinations like there’s no tomorrow.” Eren adds, his intonation is bland and though the words are serious, his heart is pounding in excitement. He grows almost giddy at revealing the truth, his skin prickles, anticipating a reaction from the pale man. 

“Have you considered your brain’s making up the creepy parts of me?” 

Of course he has, plenty of times, yet why does Levi remain the trigger if he’s a normal person in reality. His subconscious should’ve caught on to that, shouldn’t have perceived him as a catalyst if so. There’s something off about Levi, there has to be, and it can’t be imagined because if it is... Then the only one to blame for his shit life is Eren himself. 

“You’re not normal.” Eren urges, watching Levi turn in his seat and finds himself craving for their knees to touch. Impossible with the gear stick between them... Phallus-shaped cock-block. 

Eren inhales shakily at his own thoughts. Why is he so warm? What the fuck is wrong with him? 

“Look who’s talking.” Levi murmurs lowly and a slight smirk creeps across his thin lips. 

“You make me grow delusional.” The boy blatantly shares, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach at how the energy between them grows tense, denser by the second. There’s a feigned friendliness between them, desperately holding back an avalanche of frustration ready to suffocate the both of them. 

“You’re blaming me for your shitty brain?” 

“Yeah.” 

Levi stares at him, intently, and for a second Eren believes the man will reach over towards him; choke him to death in his car on this misty, Monday morning. 

“Are you sure you want to do that?” His hoarse voice questions him in a whisper, his head cocks lightly, eyes half-lid in a lazy expression. Eren isn’t fooled. 

“Denial, Eren, is a mighty and ugly beast.” 

There’s great truth to those words though Eren suspects he has yet to learn the severity of his own actions. Denial only feeds the problem; like his father’s alcoholism had torn their once-big family apart. Like his mother’s happy-go-lucky attitude had made Eren feel like there’s never room for his opinion, nor input.   
Like Eren’s been assuring himself he’d lived a good life once, with wonderful, flawless parents. 

Everyone’s flawed in some form or other... Yet, how do you improve when you deny anything’s wrong? 

“Facing demons is worse.” Eren admits to his cowardly ways. 

Levi’s smirk grows before his face falls back to the regular, dry expression. 

“Deny it and it’ll keep growing. I told you before; face it, taunt it if you must... Bother it.” He hisses the last two words, leaning over towards him until their faces are but an inch away. 

“Didn’t you tell me to bother you?” Eren asks in return, recalling the man having said this in the past. He did, right? Hadn’t he told Eren he’d been welcome to bother him, any time? 

Tilting his head sideways and glancing down at his lips, Levi hums in agreement, goes as far as to nod. 

“Yeah I did, so what’s keeping you?” The man whispers, eyes still lingering on Eren’s mouth and as his own body heats up, breaks out into a sweat, he thinks about licking his lips.   
His heart skips a beat at the thought. That’d be rather flirtatious, wouldn’t it? But then again, his lips are incredibly dry... He has the right to fucking wet them, doesn’t he? If the man doesn’t like it... Well, that’s on him. He shouldn’t be staring at Eren in the first place, not this close, not with half-lid eyes, not with his head angled as if he wants to go ahead and kiss him. 

Would he let him? 

Eren inhales shakily. Is too cowardly to lick his lips and wonders if once more he’s letting the creature win by being subdued. Levi just told him to taunt the demon... Bother it... But Levi isn’t the demon. Is he? 

But he blamed him for his own hallucinations minutes earlier. 

So he is. 

Levi is the bad guy, after all. Erwin, the friendly one. 

“I-” Eren starts but he doesn’t know what to say, forgot their entire conversation. He just knows the temperature in the car is searing-hot and he can hardly breathe and his body has grown excited to the point where his pants have become uncomfortably tight. 

‘Oh my god.’ Eren’s thoughts shout. He’s hard. 

Why in the fucking hell is he hard?! 

Levi scoffs, nudging Eren from his own screaming thoughts with the sound of it, with the puff of air that hits him in his face. 

“You’re no fun.” Levi murmurs, pulling away and turning back in his seat to face the road. He turns on the engine and Eren feels cold immediately. There’s something mournful about losing the man’s attention. He thinks about reaching out to him, considers grabbing his arm, touch his knee with his hand like he had. But he still can’t seem to face his demon. 

And hence he sits back, doesn’t say a word for the remainder of the ride. 

* * *

Police turn up at school and before putting two and two together, Eren already assumes it has something to do with Jean not having showed up today. It’s a ludicrous assumption, certainly, but there’s a sensation in his guts, mocking him with a ‘what if Jean’s missing?’. 

And sure enough, he is. 

“He’s been missing since Friday night and we’ve been told you were the last person with him.” 

Eren blinks, sits stiffly on the wooden chair as two police officers interrogate him in a side-office of the school. The boy grows nervous at whatever they might be thinking. 

“Yeah, he drove me home.” 

“And did he tell you where he was heading afterwards?” 

“No.” 

“Were you both in a fight?” 

“No.” 

“What’s your relationship with him?” 

“Friends.” 

The questions keep coming, piling up, making Eren grow more nervous and sweaty by each passing minute until he almost believes he in fact has something to do with the boy’s disappearance. 

However, it’s when being backed into a corner slowly, it’s when he’s not allowed to think long enough for the questions are fired at him at rapid speed; allowing him no longer than a split second to reply, that the boy’s mind wavers.   
His skull shudders. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Eren can see the image of Jean flashing on his inner-eyelids. Jean, always grinning, always in a good mood, always cocky... Loved by everyone, because he tries so hard. Too hard. Why does he try so hard? What is he hiding? No one’s loved by all. So what is he hiding? Wasn’t he hiding something? Didn’t he once tell Eren about something private?   
Yeah... Didn’t he... Didn’t he tell Eren more about his personal desires? 

‘No, he didn’t.’ 

‘Yes, yes, he did, in fact.’ 

‘Don’t you remember him packing a bag before the party?’ 

‘What bag?’ 

‘A bag with clothes, toothbrush, some meds, even a blanket. As if he was about to run away.’ 

‘I don’t remember. That didn’t happen. We ate dinner and left to the party. There was no bag.’ 

‘Yes, there was a bag. A big, rucksack. Dark-green. Worn.’ 

‘No.’ 

‘Yes!’ 

Eren’s mind keeps arguing with itself until his skull feels like it’s about to explode. 

“I think-” Eren interrupts the cop asking him another question, leaning over the desk in an attempt to intimidate the boy. Which does work. 

“I think he might’ve run away. He... He packed a bag with some personal belongings.” The boy concludes and watching the officers share a glance with one another. 

“But he left his secret stash of money at home.” One of them shares and Eren knows it’s not a good sign when information about an investigation is being shared with him. Or perhaps it is, perhaps this time around they’re not looking to blame him as much as they’re trying to figure out the truth with his help. 

He didn’t know about a stash of money. 

“His mother is sick. He might’ve left it for her.” Eren shares carefully, feeling like his brain has to put too much effort into conjuring up the facts for it be legitimate. Yet, he does remember this correctly... Jean’s mother is ill and it’s been difficult for him to deal with it. Hence, leaving her behind for the sake of his own sanity, he’d feel enough empathy to at least leave her his money. 

“It’s been hard on him.” The teen adds before forcing himself to relax into his seat. 

The tallest one of the pair writes something down before he gets up and shuts hit notepad forcefully. The slap is loud, causing Eren to flinch. 

“Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Jaeger.” 

Their demeanor has changed, as if the pieces of their puzzle have clicked together and Eren’s wiped off the suspect list. They go as far as to shake his hand before leaving the small office. Leaving Eren behind with the principal seated awkwardly at the corner of his desk. 

They share a glance. 

“Well, you can go back to class.” 

Eren stares a little longer at the man. The principal has never seemed fond of Eren, always staring with expressionless features. In some way he reminds Eren of Levi, considering the gazing and the incapability Eren finds in reading his face.   
Yet, he isn’t quite as creepy. And doesn’t come close to Levi’s good looks either. 

Good looks. 

When did Eren begin to find Levi attractive? Had he not labeled him a gremlin in his mind before? He’s too pale, too short, fingers too long, cheekbones too sharp. Sharp angles and peculiar shapes.   
He should be the farthest from handsome. 

And yet here he is... Staring at his principal; unseeing, as his mind’s too busy fantasizing about Levi. 

“Jaeger.” 

The boy jolts, could’ve sworn the voice had been Levi’s and not the deep rumbling one belonging to the balding man to his left. Eren gets up quickly, leaving the office without another word. 

* * *

Classes pass by slowly. Even free time is stretched out beyond humane hours and Eren finds himself tossing and turning at night, still not used to the empty space on the lower part of his bunk-bed.   
It’s not that he misses Jean, he’s not even that worried about him considering the idiot’s run off somewhere. The thing is that, unlike what he’d believed before, it was not the distraction of school keeping him sane but the obnoxious presence of Jean. 

Jean had been the distraction. Jean had been the one annoying him, flirting with him, conversing with him about anyone and anything. And even during classes and lectures, Eren’s mind had been thinking back to whatever Jean had joked about or complained about to him in the hallway or dining hall where they’d hang out.   
His mind had been kept busy –entertained- and now he’s left alone with his thoughts once more. There’s plenty of people around him, even lessons being taught should distract him enough, but Eren finds himself growing inexplicably bored in no time. As if his brain works at a hundred miles an hour; impossible to be kept busy by anything other than his own delusions. 

Why Jean had been the point of sanity for him is beyond him. If anything, the boy is rather bland if it weren’t for his sense of humor and desire to rebel and talk back.   
Perhaps it’s because Eren would like to be more like him... Less caring, more of a ‘je mon fous’ attitude towards life, to what people might think of him. He’d been like that once. But now... With this fucked up brain of his, he’s becoming weaker, submissive, like a damn doormat. 

It’s the recognition of his past-self –or a future want-to-be- that occupied Eren this much with Jean. 

Would he have stayed around had Eren confessed this?   
Unlikely, Jean’s got his own plans in life, a craving for freedom so grand he left this town for it, left his family for it. Abandoned any chance for a future. 

Exhaling heavily, Eren turns onto his right side in bed, hands beneath his cheek as he stares out into the sleeping hall. Snores chime off the walls, some snickering in the farther back from guys that are still awake. It should be enough to not have him feel like he’s the only person alive on this planet. 

But it isn’t. 

A distant ‘psst’ resounds and at first he doesn’t think it’s directed towards him. However, when a whispered ‘hey’ crawls into his ears, Eren sits up in bed; looks around until he sees a shadow peeking into the shared bedroom from the hallway.   
Glancing around for anyone else the shadow might be addressing, Eren figures out soon enough the stranger indeed is beckoning him over. 

“What do you want?” Eren hisses back at the stranger, trying to recognize the short figure. His hair is ridiculously messy, sticking out in every direction like a worn scarecrow’s head of straw. He can’t remember seeing a kid at this school with such shitty hair, but then again; he might've just woken up, having come from a different sleeping hall. 

A skinny arm stretches out before it makes a scooping motion, urging him to come meet him. 

Eren hesitates, takes note of the pitch-black skin even as his wrist is licked by a distant lamp left on at the end of the hallway. 

“Come.” The kid urges him in a whisper, looking over his shoulder behind him before hastily disappearing. 

Eren blinks, confused, stares at the doorway to await his return but he doesn’t come back. Minutes pass, minutes in which Eren’s mind tells him he’s hallucinating. Minutes in which his brain nudges forward words spoken by Levi; ‘bother it.’. 

Sliding out of his bed, bare feet touching cold tiles, Eren inhales deeply a few times. 

Walking into the hallway shows that it’s empty, safety lights cast a dim, rather ominous, orange glow across the length of it, leaving patches of pitch-black in between each lamp. The boy finds himself holding his breath every time he crosses a shadow, exhaling in relief whenever stepping into soft light.   
He’s grown to hate the dark. He’s grown to fear what can be hiding inside of it. He’s come to doubt that monsters are not real. 

When pausing for a moment, trying to figure out where the stranger would’ve gone, Eren startles as the shadow dashes across opened double-doors at the end of the hall. By the sound of it, he as well is barefooted, the pat of skin onto tiles apparent.   
Suppressing a shudder at the skinny, long-limbed stranger which seems to not only consist of oil-black skin but as well appears entirely naked. It’s an odd and creepy sight and Eren wonders if his eyes are playing tricks on him. 

Regardless, he jogs down the hallway, squinting and tensing each time he’s swallowed by shadows and makes his way to the double doors.   
He peeks inside, to the right, where the kid had run towards; finds nothing other than the entrance that leads to the toilet section of the communal bathroom hall. The motion-sensor lights have already flickered on, some of them blinking with a clanking sound before they remain lit, buzzing lightly. 

Walking farther inside at a slow pace, tip-toeing, Eren leans a hand on the tiled wall to his right for balance before eventually entering the space where over a dozen toilet-cubicles are placed to the left, across of them urinals. 

It’s an ugly setting. Though floor and walls are colored white, he’s noticed before how the beginnings of black fungus have begun to creep into the cracks of corner-placed tiles. There are stains of moisture against the ceiling, the shapes of them betraying leaks within plaster walls.   
The white lights above serve nothing to dampen the cold atmosphere of the bland room; rather they cause the white to glare at Eren, the black of shadows and fungus to deepen in their darkness. It heightens the contrast between the appearance of cleanliness and the absolute filth horribly hidden. 

Eren grimaces, glances down at the floor to make sure he won’t step into anything dirty and that’s when he sees the footprints. The tracks are shaped like human feet, however, the substance of them consists of something thick and glossy, like tar.   
Making sure his feet do not step into the oil, Eren slowly follows the steps. 

Had this kid fallen in a barrel of mud or something? How the hell does he- 

Oh right. Hallucinations. 

Pausing at the logic he finds within blaming his own delusional thoughts for whatever he is seeing, Eren considers turning around and going back to bed. This is pointless, after all. What is he going to get out of this? Another scare? Some more trauma? More delusions?   
This is the first time he’s been seeing creatures around this place. Or so he thinks. Who’s to say Eren hasn’t been imagining half the things he’s been interacting with at this school?   
Who’s to say Jean is even real? 

Yet, the curiosity... Levi’s words. 

Resuming his pace, Eren follows the footprints into a slight curve until they stop at the last toilet cubicle in the bathroom; nestled between a tiled wall and a more dilapidated clone of itself. 

It went in there. 

Eren reaches out slowly, can’t help but to hold his breath as his heart begins to pound and takes a hold of the door-handle. Frightened of what he’ll witness this time around, the boy counts to three in his head, closing his eyes as he does so before tightening his grip on the knob. 

“Three.” He opens his eyes, goes to swing open the door and shout at whatever is in there, yet fails to move the handle. It’s stuck. It won’t budge.   
Eren rattles the door a few times, pulls on it, glances up and down to check if anything’s causing an obstruction. The square beneath the handle shows green, it shouldn’t be locked. 

The thought of something holding the door on the other side makes the boy pause. 

Yet, he’s forced to jump back with a gasp when the green patch clicks to red abruptly, the sound of the wheel turning; loud in the echoing bathroom. 

Eren takes a few steps back, his knees wobble as his heart is so busy pumping blood that his other muscles almost forget how to function. What is he so afraid of? It’s in his head. He can’t be hurt unless fear overrules him so much that he’ll go to do something absurd, like trying to jump out of a window.   
The memory forces him to glance up at the tiny windows in the wall to his right; impossible to reach, too small to fit through. 

Glancing down at the open space between the floor and the cubicle’s door, at this distance; shows only the base of the toilet. There are no feet, not even a shadow.   
Nothing’s in there. The lock likely isn’t even red to begin with. 

Stepping closer once more, the boy squats down slowly, tries to peek underneath the door to glance inside, yet finds his neck hurting at the awkward angle. Lowering himself on hands and knees, the boy ignores his mind screaming at him to pull away, to stop this nonsense of ‘bothering’ his inner-demons.   
He needs to do this. There’s nothing to be afraid of. The worst that can happen is that he’ll look inside the cubicle and find the shadowy figure looking down at him as it stands on top the toilet seat. 

So what? 

Sliding his head underneath the door proves to be one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of his life. Eren’s trembling, head to toe, his lungs are incapable of inhaling other than incredibly shallowly and as his heart beats at a rapid pace; the blood rushing in his ears deafens him. 

He doesn’t see anything at first.   
There’s a toilet and three walls. Glancing up shows nothing standing atop the porcelain and as he exhales, as he plans to back out; a drop of liquid splatters in front of him on the tiles.   
Eren stares at it for a moment, recognizes the blackness and thickness of it as that of the earlier witnessed footprints. 

Spreading the goop with a finger shows hidden hues, first brown... yet soon enough it colors a deep red and the boy quickly touches his own face; checking for a nosebleed or something worse.   
His fingers, other than the tip of the one he’d touched the drop with, are clean. He turns around his hand, double-checking before another drop plops down in front of him, the sound ridiculously loud in the quiet bathroom. 

Awkwardly crawled underneath the cubicle’s door, Eren goes to pull back, yet the movement forces his head to lower and that’s when he spots a single footprint half hidden behind the toilet. And another one farther back, toes placed against the wall. 

And another one. 

Higher. Flat against the wall, a pace above the where the toes have left a stain. 

Leaning on his shoulder so he can angle his head to look up higher, Eren grows nauseated when spotting print after print, higher and higher, like someone had walked up the wall with steady, calculated steps. 

And higher still, until... 

He sees it. 

It grins down at him. 

Eren recognizes the hay-textured hair, the emaciated body, limbs too long, fingers bony and spider-like as they hold on to the top of the cubicle. It’s squatted on top of the door effortlessly as its head is nearly tilted upside down to meet Eren’s gaze. The white teeth –too sharp for a human- are present in an endless amount as its grin spreads to the corners of its eyes in a Cheshire smile. The bright paleness of them matches its owl-like eyes which are unnaturally round, irises so miniscule and black that they might as well be considered pupils. 

Frozen in place, Eren can only stare back at it. His muscles refuse to budge, afraid that an inch of movement will set off the creature which is as still as Eren is. The only aspect changing between them is the rhythmic rumble of its breathing; slow, raspy, strained but calm.   
Another drop of –what Eren assumes to be- blood falls from its mouth, splatters onto Eren’s forehead.   
Its drooling through its teeth which soon begin to stain black and crimson as it salivates more excessively with each passing moment shared between them. 

And all Eren can do is hold his breath and gaze at it, wide-eyed, horrified. 

His ears are buzzing; throughout the sound a high-pitched whistle begins to stretch, a whistle that rings familiar, yet his mind can not fathom a single thought. However, a voice still breaks through his mangled brains. 

‘Bother it. Bother it. Bother it. Bother me. Bother me. Me. Me. Me.’ The voice groans inside of Eren’s skull, pained yet pleasured whining, as if reveling in torture. 

As his mind teases him unforgivingly, Eren is hit by the intense scent of copper, knows before feeling warm liquid pool over his mouth that he’s getting a nosebleed. 

The whistle in his ears rings sharp and as he’s still holding his breath, Eren’s eyes urge to flutter shut. Yet, as they do, as he struggles to keep them open, the lights around him flicker along with his blinking, allowing the creature to crawl down the cubicle’s door, fingernails so long and pointy they resemble claws; leave marks when dragged.   
Its limbs move in pops, dangle when lifted, as if every joint has been broken beforehand and its being controlled by invisible strings. 

Eren wheezes. Can’t breathe. The door above him seemingly having increased in size as his shoulders are pressed down underneath a heavy weight. And it gets closer. The louder his ears buzz, the louder the whistle chimes, the more its dragging nails resemble the ones having scratched inside his closet, the more its breaths resemble that of the ones he’d heard underneath his bed... Eren’s vision gets distorted by white noise. His breathing is non-existent, his lungs have disappeared, he’s only a vessel awaiting decay. Never been conscious. Always in a dream. A nightmare. A delusion. 

It comes closer, its hand placed down onto the tiles next to where Eren’s rested his cheek on the floor. Its skin was never black... It’s just covered in thick blood, hides a familiar paleness underneath. It’s eyes, as its face comes nose to nose with Eren, aren’t black... They’re light, gray, irises so pale Eren hadn’t seen them before. Its mouth opens.   
Eren wheezes once more, tries to call for help as he’s about to pass out, as he’s about to be left with this thing while unconscious; allowing it to do whatever it desires to do to him. 

The mouth is large, a cavern of pitch-black, bottomless hunger framed by rows after rows of sharp teeth. Its inhale is raspy, sounds similar to Eren’s wheezing and as the boy sputters weakly; blood from his own nose nearly choking him, the whistling stops. 

The buzzing stops. Everything stops. Quiet. Frozen. 

Eren awaits whatever will happen next. His eyes still desire to fall shut as he tries his hardest to keep them focused on the agape void in front of him.   
Sharp angles. Sharp hair. Hungering. 

“Levi.” Eren whispers, his voice weak and raw. He doesn’t know why he says his name. Is it for help? Is it because he hopes he’s out there behind the veil of his own hallucinations? Is it because this thing is, in fact, Levi? 

Whichever it is. The creature’s eyes, far above its stretched mouth look down at him abruptly; as if having heard him. 

Its teeth clack shut, the movement causing a waft of air to hit Eren in the face, the scent of rotten meat penetrating through the blood in his nose.   
He wants to heave. Wants to cry, wants to wake up. 

And yet the opposite happens. 

As the creature lays its soiled claw atop Eren’s cheek, stained thumb brushing away the blood underneath Eren’s nose and resulting only in spreading its own across the boy’s skin, as it leans in closer, its jaw making cracking and popping noises as its mouth once more opens... As it goes to Eren’s face. 

Eren loses all sense of self, tumbles off the edge of consciousness, into a bliss absence of all that is real and imagined. 


	16. Coal Prints

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic became so heavy on the psychological that it keeps cockblocking my own writing.

Eren awakes in his school’s infirmary.

His nose is throbbing, the skin inside feeling raw and dry. His tongue, when swallowing, is thick. His entire mouth tastes like shit.

Smacking his lips with a groan, the boy sits up carefully, glancing around the room shows him the school nurse sitting behind her desk, typing something on the keyboard of the grand lump of gray plastic they dare call a computer. It’s ancient. Especially now cell-phones are being created, evolving so rapidly that the latest version doesn’t even have an antenna anymore.   
He wonders how little their budget is in this place. It’s not a prestigious boarding school after all. Yet, the only one in town.

The boy stretches, grabs his left wrist behind his back, trying to pull his arms taunt to crack his own back; yet it only serves  in  mak ing his head pound in warning fashion; threatening him with an upcoming migraine.

“Can I drink something?” Eren asks. His voice is absurdly weak, so hoarse he barely reaches a high enough volume to notify the nurse sitting plenty of feet away from him. Yet she catches his words, looks over and smiles.   
If it weren’t for how shitty he felt, Eren would’ve smiled back... How long has it been since he’d seen a genuine smile directed towards him? Other than unnaturally-wide grins and flirtatious smirks, no other emotion had been expressed towards him.

When the young woman returns with a plastic cup of water, and Eren starts to sip from it carefully, she speaks.

“Your father is coming to pick you up.”

For a split second he thinks she’s talking about  Grisha ; his actual parent. It causes his heart to flutter in relief before his stomach drops in realization.

“He’s not my father.” He murmurs, needlessly, before downing the entire cup in one go and handing it back to her. He ignores the scrapes of dried flakes of blood being washed down his throat.

“My apologies.” The nurse excuses herself, though doesn’t seem to care all that much.  Of course she doesn’t. Is there anyone out there who actually cares about Eren? About what he has to say, about what he goes through, about his opinions and wishes and dreams?

Squeezing his eyes shut, mentally berating himself for feeling sorry for himself, Eren tries to instead focus on the fact that Levi is on his way to come pick him up.

“What day is it?”

“Friday.” She smiles once more.

“It’s only six AM. Someone found you in the bathroom, unconscious.” Her words are chopped, hesitant.

Eren glances out the window, notices it is still dark outside as summer is budging for autumn ; the nights becoming longer.

Why they’d called Levi in the middle of the night is beyond him, but he’s aware the school regiment isn’t that logical over here. Jean had told him before that this place is run by a bunch of idiots who’d inherited the building and permits back in late  eighteen hundred .

“Do you remember what happened?” Her face falls when she asks this, her worried frown mixed with a grimace of... disgust? Eren narrows his eyes, suspects she knows more than he does.

“No, I don’t.” He hints, waiting for her to tell him.

Yet, as she opens her lips, inhales, a knock rattles the ribbed glass placed in the center of the infirmary door. She perks up.

“That must be your dad.” The nurse smiles as she turns around to open the door. Eren scowls at her calling Levi this even after he’d shared with  her he’s anything but his parent.

As the door is opened, sure enough, Levi struts inside.   
He’s as pale as ever, light shadows beneath his eyes, his raven-black hair sharp a shiny. He’s dressed more casually than Eren’s used to. Though his black jeans are similar to the ones he wears on the daily, the V-neck shirt of the same shade contrasts against the button-ups he normally wears.

Eren stares at his arms, is genuinely surprised that there’s large muscles on them. Had he remembered Levi wrong? Had he not been skinnier, lankier? His fingers are still long and bony, elegant, yet in the different outfit he’s displaying more meat on him than Eren would’ve thought.   
Sure enough, he’d noticed some tone to him before, more than Eren consists of... Yet, not like this.

Had he ever seen his arms other than wrapped within sleeves?   
Eren genuinely can’t remember.

The sound of jangling keys as Levi clasps them into his hand rather than leave them dangling from a finger, shake Eren from his thoughts.

The nurse’s voice has lowered into a whisper as she addresses Levi, pulling him closer with fingers on his elbow and the man leans in with attention. The boy frowns, tries to eavesdrop, tries to read lips as they keep glancing at him while speaking in hushed tones.   
The logic part within him assures him they’re talking generic, that the lady is telling Levi Eren must be exhausted and that he should rest loads.   
Yet, the irrational part within, the one that continues to entertain delusions, taunts Eren that something severe must’ve happened while he was hallucinating. Something so disgusting, or shocking, that Levi has to be notified of this immediately, and in person.

Grimacing at his waging thoughts, Eren swings his legs onto the floor, removing the blanket off his body and getting ready to leave.   
Yet, even motioning that he’s ready doesn’t result in a quick departure. The conversation between the two adults continues on for many more minutes until at last Levi pulls away with a nod, strokes a hand over his face.

Eren’s never seen him do that. He thinks... He can’t remember.

For a moment longer, as the nurse goes to sit behind her desk, Levi’s left standing with hands on hips, staring up at the ceiling; unseeing, in thought.   
It worries Eren.

Even the nurse questions him if he’s feeling alright, and Levi just nods, waves his hand in a dismissive manner before meeting Eren’s stare.

“Come.” He murmurs, nearly unheard across the distance between them. The word, the tone, reminds him of the blood-soaked creature in the bathroom.

“Yeah.” Eren agrees, unnecessarily. He doesn’t have much of a choice. Though apprehensive to go back to the cabin again, it is weekend and staying over at school isn’t an option as far as his contract is concerned. Besides, Levi’s driven hours to get here, in the middle of the night-to-morning. He’s exhausted because of it.

And if not for those generic reasons, there’s a tinge of anticipation to spend another weekend with the man.   
Nothing ever really happens that often. Yet, whenever an interaction takes place, it’s loaded, it raises questions and desires. Never a dull moment between the two of them, that’s certain. Even if the kid’s brain is the only one to blame for it, the distraction is welcoming.

Even in that cabin.

The drive home is quiet, Eren keeps drifting off, eyes opening every now and then to make sure it’s Levi behind the wheel and not some sickly beast.   
And every time he looks, it’s him. Levi.

The uphill walk to the cabin lasts forever and Eren’s legs wobble with every step. At one point he trips, sinks onto his knees and instead of getting up; he exhales in a sigh.

“I’m so tired.” The boy murmurs, staring at the dirt beneath.

“Come on.” Levi urges, his tone rather gentle as he clasps his arm into Eren’s, pulling him back onto his feet.

For the rest of the walk, Levi doesn’t let go. Helps Eren up the hill they’re both facing. 

And Eren’s happy. He’s happy that for once it’s not just their knees touching. That for once Levi ’s pulling him through.

* * *

He’s beginning to see a lot of hands.

Black hands, with bony fingers and long, sharp nails. They leave marks. Coal. Smudges of ash.

Eren finds prints on his bedroom door, especially on the handle. He spots entire handprints framing the door-lock, as if something had squatted down to peek through the keyhole. There’s stains on the inside of his closet and sure enough underneath his bed.   
However, his own space isn’t the only location this thing has been snooping around in.

Eren finds them on the door to Levi’s office.

The boy gazes at the prints on the doorknob, touches the black and finds that when smeared onto his fingers it is the same consistency as he’d found around his bedroom. It’s coal.

Patting his hands onto his jeans, smudging the fabric, Eren bends down to glance through the keyhole. 

There’s nothing to see other than pitch-black and this alone allows him enough courage to knock on the door, assuming Levi’s not present. 

No reply comes and when he turns the knob, the door clicks open. Glancing inside confirms the office is empty and with light steps he enters, closing the door behind him as he flicks on the light.    
He’s not certain why these prints have led him here, yet Eren has no problem following his own curiosity, if only to stop himself from overthinking and overanalyzing his surroundings.

Sitting at the desk, on Levi’s seat, Eren sighs in relief. The chair is soft, bounces slightly on its frame when he adjusts his weight and he  spends the next few seconds swiveling, spinning around slowly as it turns on its wheels. He wonders if he could ask Levi to get him a desk chair.

He wonders if he can ask him anything to begin with.

Their conversations are so absurd and  unnatural in their flow that common interaction fails to seep through.

Gazing at the desk, Eren finds more fingerprints. A few on the edge of the furniture’s top, but as well a collection of them smeared across the bottom drawer.   
Leaning over in his seat, the boy goes to open it, yet finds it is locked. 

“Oh...” He exhales, curious, yet doubtful he’ll find the key laying around.

Rummaging through the other two drawers above the locked one, shows only paperwork and stationary objects. No key in sight.

Giving up –for now- with a sigh, Eren leans back in the chair, swivels some more as his head lies on the back-rest. The ceiling above is dark. Wooden boards neatly assembled like they would on a floor and it’s no wonder this house creaks and groans so much. The only room in this cabin that isn’t suffering from somber, atmospheric earth tones is the bathroom. And even that place is anything but pleasant.

Glancing down at the desk, Eren frowns at the fingerprints placed on the phone’s receiver. 

Sitting back up from his previously slouched position, the boy retrieves the object, placing it against his ear; feeling oddly apprehensive.   
No sound chimes through the speaker. Pulling the receiver away from his ear, Eren inspects it, as if he could ever tell why it doesn’t work by just glaring at it.

Getting up from the chair, the boy places fingers atop the phone’s cables, beginning to follow it down the desk. Lowering himself on hands and knees as the threads travels to the floor. Crawling, Eren tracks the cables all the way back to an outlet, where the one for power is plugged in, yet the one for reception disappears behind a bookshelf.   
Rounding the large, black furniture, Eren finds that the cable does not come out at the other end and hence likely is plugged in behind it. Perhaps it got dislodged.

Getting up, the boy tries to move the closet, which serves in him almost pulling a muscle in his back and the big wooden piece of furniture to mockingly not move even a tenth of an inch.

Plan B, which should’ve been plan A, nudges itself into Eren’s skull and with a roll of his eyes the boy squats down, picking up the cable and tugging on it.

It moves.

“Ah there’s the problem.” He murmurs to himself as he keeps pulling it towards him gently.

The longer he retrieves it, the darker the gray of the cable becomes until he ends up holding a string of black, stripped at the end, revealing copper ends of inside wires.

Ignoring the dirt on his hands from yet more coal  having been touched, Eren inspects the tiny strands, wonders how they could’ve come dislodged in this state. They must’ve been assembled poorly beforehand. He isn’t an electrician but the wire appears as if it’s been laying in dust for ages, never having been plugged in to begin with.

Poking the cable back behind the closet, Eren nudges it to its previous position before getting up and walking back over the desk.

The chair is turned towards him. Levi’s eyes meet his.

“Levi.” Eren stirs, watches the man lazily swivel with the seat similar to how Eren had earlier. He tilts his head to the side, glancing behind Eren’s legs at where he’d shoved the cable back in place.   
He saw.

“Did you break it?”

“It was already  broken, I didn’t do it.” Eren assures him almost automatically, ridiculously nervous over being caught touching a cable.

Levi’s mouth opens, as if to say something, before his teeth clack shut and he nods slowly, half-lid gaze traveling back up to Eren’s wide one.

“What lured you here?”

It’s an odd choice of words and Eren’s wondering if it’s coincidental that Levi would phrase the question as such. Or is he aware of Eren continuously being beckoned around by illusions?

“Curiosity.” Eren replies vaguely.

“Awakened by what?”

Glancing down at his hands still shows coal smeared across his skin. He rubs his fingers together as he considers telling Levi what he’s seeing.

“Fingerprints.” He murmurs and Levi stops swiveling about. His legs fall open, one foot leaning on its heel as he’s slouched in the seat. His prodding leer doesn’t waver and Eren knows he’s waiting for him to be clearer.

“I keep seeing hand- and fingerprints. They’re black, as if dunked in coal. They’re in my room a lot, and I found them in here as well.” Though Eren’s exhale is as shaky as his voice when explaining what he’s been seeing this past weekend, there’s relief. His shoulders pull up slightly, checking if the weight of this burden remains on them, and though still heavy, it appears that this confession alone allows the boy to roll his muscles with much more ease than seconds prior.

Levi glances around the office, in search of these prints Eren is sure he’ll never be able to see.

“They’re on the door. On the bottom drawer. On the phone.” Eren adds, the dam has cracked and words begin to seep through. It feels incredible, it feels like he’s spilling drops of insanity right onto the  floor boards underneath; scattered and sucked into the wood. Gone.

“I touch them and...” Eren reaches out his palms towards the quiet man who glances at his hands and has no reaction to them. He must be seeing just the boy’s skin, not the black smears Eren does.

“How long have you been seeing things like this?” The man asks as Eren takes a step closer towards him. 

“It’s hard to tell. It’s so vivid I can’t tell. Maybe my entire life has been one, long hallucination.”

Levi cocks his head sideways and Eren watches his mouth fall agape, the tip of his tongue appearing as it prods his left canine. Such an odd creature. Such peculiar motions and habits. So incredibly complex that Eren feels secure in his belief that Levi –unlike most of his surroundings- is real.   
How could he make this man up? He’s so unlike anything he’s ever seen before, ever interacted with before.

So... intriguing.

“Eren.” His name rolls off the man’s tongue, thick like honey, as he cranes his neck to meet Eren’s gaze.

The boy hadn’t noticed he’d been pacing closer towards him. Hadn’t noticed he’d come to a stop in between the man’s spread legs.   
By far, had not noticed placing the tips of his fingers onto Levi's cheek.

Eren drags his hand down, watches –in awe- how the black from his fingers transfers onto the man’s pale cheek. Delusion meets reality. It slips into the real world with ease, it interacts, eagerly.   
Could he drag this man into his hallucinations? Could he make him witness what he sees every day? Could he have him meet his demons?    
What would Levi do, if so? Would he converse with them? Would he mock them, bother them? Or would he be frightened of them such as Eren is?

“What are you afraid of?” Eren asks, dragging the tip of his index-finger down the side of Levi’s throat. Though the man cranes his neck, allowing Eren more room to touch, his eyes do not once look away from the boy’s face. His body is stiff. Levi’s tense.

“You.”

The answer surprises Eren, causing his movement to stutter to a halt before he lets his hand drop back down next to his body.

“Me?” 

“Not for reasons you’d assume.” Levi explains, vaguely.

Though Eren wants to ask him what he means by that, Levi interrupts him.

“How’s your nose?” Distracted by the question, Eren forgets to flinch when Levi reaches out and wraps his fingers loosely around the boy’s wrist. He doesn’t pull him closer, doesn’t squeeze, just holds it as he awaits a reply.

Prodding the bridge of his nose with his free hand, Eren winces at the dull ache. Ever since he’d gotten that nosebleed in the school’s bathroom hall, his nose indeed has been sore, swollen even. Unlikely aftermath of a mere nosebleed, though granted it’d been flooding. Or had that been imagined?

“Sore.”

Levi nods, eyes dark, brows furrowed slightly and Eren wonders why there’s such an intense layer beneath the surface at this.

“Do you remember what happened?”

The nurse had asked Eren this as well and he is now convinced something more has happened in that cubicle.

“No. What happened?” 

The grip on Eren’s wrist loosens and the man physically recoils at the request of clarification. As if his entire body refuses to interact in this conversation. Watching Levi sit back in his chair, Eren –for once- predicts the outcome by observing movements alone and he knows a reply will not be granted.

Or, not a truthful one, at least.

“You were quite upset.” Levi murmurs, eyes darting across the boy’s face before he rubs his hands over his thighs.   
It draws the boy’s sight to the man’s lap and he stirs when seeing black smears and prints being left by Levi’s strokes.

So, it is Levi’s hands? Long, bony fingers that curl around the closet door from the inside to crack it open. Absurdly sharp nails that scratch the floor underneath his bed. Those same fingers which at times slide underneath the bedroom door, as if in search of something.   
Once again, it is proven to his demented mind that Levi is the demon. He is, in fact, the one that’s been bothering Eren.

Even if triggered only by his own delusions, his own sickness. Levi remains the catalyst. Not this cabin, not lack of sleep or negative thoughts.

Just this man being around Eren.

“Look.” Eren says breathlessly, pointing at Levi’s thighs. 

“At what?”

“Don’t you see the dirt on your pants?”

Levi only frowns, stretches the fabric taunt to look for stains and only resulting in dirtying them even more.

“And here.” Eren adds, reaching out his wrist, pointing at the black stripes left by the man’s fingers which had been holding him before.

“You’re the one leaving prints. And it’s spread on me now.” Eren accuses  breathlessly .

“Or did you spread it on me?” Levi throws back.

Eren pauses at that, gazes at Levi who –for not seeing Eren’s hallucinations- sure as hell has some good replies ready for him. Answers that make sense to the boy, but shouldn’t even be able to be conjured up in the man’s brain.   
Unless he lives in Eren’s head.

Observing the streaks on his cheek, which Eren had left behind, he considers the possibility.

Perhaps he’d not so much forced his hallucinations into the real world but has been pulling reality –sanity- into his delusions.   
How is he supposed to climb up a rope leading him out of this horrendous black hole if all he ever does is tug the entire thing down with him; just dangling in his own emptiness, his own mess, never even considering to pull himself up to the surface.

Which raises the question...

Is Eren the creature?

“What are _you_ afraid of?” Levi returns the boy’s earlier question. His voice is soft, a mere hissing whisper and Eren’s vision grows blurry. His ears hum.

It’s a good question, one he’s asked himself countless of times before and finds a different response to each time again. Eren’s a coward, is frightened by plenty of things. The dark, scary movies, spiders, cracking open his skull on the bathroom floor after slipping in the shower. Just, normal, regular fears a fifteen-year-old may have.   
And then some.

That he isn’t real.

That nothing he ever saw, did, was, has ever been real.

That what he has lived, is living, will live, belongs in another person’s mind. That he is just a form of midnight entertainment; a dream, a nightmare.

And then the creatures. Not so much what they’d do to him but more so what they could make Eren do to himself.

Yet, most of all, an aspect that sums it all up; that cradles all the irrational and rational terrors together. His mind. These fears, if it were not for his brain... If he were not a being, there’d be no fear. Which ironically could be proof to himself that he is in fact existing, alive, yet in fucked up fashion at that.

Eren glances down at Levi. The man’s face is unreadable. His skin is pale, the smears on his cheek and pants gone. The buzzing in Eren’s ears fades and his vision steadies.   
He’s pulled himself out of it. Or something has...

A deep breath makes the boy aware that there’s heat against the side of his right knee. Glancing down, he almost wants to chuckle miserably at witnessing Levi’s knee resting against his own.

Touching knees. Human warmth. Reality. It’s okay. It’s all in his head. Everything. Eren’s his own enemy. Eren’s the creature.

The boy replies to Levi.

“Me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested, you can check out some pics that suit this fic's vibe, right [here](https://jal-ribai.tumblr.com/tagged/ephemeral-inspo).


	17. Full Moons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: bit of a wild chapter. murder, violence, bit of torture. (also homophobic thoughts which has been stated in the tags) If you've come this far I assume you're not easily triggered/offended but still... proceed (or don't) with caution.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope you guys will enjoy it as well.

He dreams a lot about fucking him.

Levi isn’t sure what this means since every  fiber within him is repulsed by the thought of touching another man in such ways. Let alone, being touched by one.

Yet, the dreams are always accompanied by other displays than mere pleasure. There’s a heap of domination and a ton of violence to go with it. The sex isn’t normal, he consumes the boy rather than fucks him. He owns every single part of him, he controls his breathing with hands squeezing his throat so hard he can feel his larynx shift underneath his thumbs. Crushing his windpipe while thrusting inside of him.   
There’s nights where he dreams of going down on him and if it weren’t for himself having male organs and hence some sympathy towards a possible victim, he is certain his mind would make him bite it off entirely.   
Next to the murderous hinting, Levi as well babbles on and on when dreaming of Eren. He tells the boy everything he’s done wrong in his life. He tells him how much he hates fucking him, how disgusted he is of the dick he’s jerking off while ironically buried inside the boy with his own. He confesses to Eren that he’s hurt people, killed people, that he’s evil from head to toe, heart to soul.

And Eren... Oh, Eren. He weeps and moans. It’s sickening how much he can hurt the kid in his dreams and still have him whine his name, begging him to kiss him, suck him, fuck him, kill him. Eat him.

Levi stutters on his exhale, the groan sounding like a growl, as he watches himself spill onto the porcelain underneath him. Panting, gazing at his semen swirling down the drain together with soapy water, Levi wonders how deep in shit he is.   
He just jerked off in the shower, thinking back on the countless dreams he’s been having about Eren and himself in different positions and various rooms.   
That’s not a normal thing to be thinking off when pleasuring himself. Even if the dreams had consisted of Eren and him participating in some bland, normal, missionary sex... Even then... they’re both male.

“Disgusting.” Levi snarls more to himself than to Eren, even though he knows the kid’s fooled around at school with Jean. Which reminds him to go back and burn the body.

Sighing, not looking forward to walking a couple of hours to his destination, Levi turns off the shower-spray and gets out.

It’s an understatement to claim that he shouldn’t have killed him.   
Not only did Jean ‘technically’ not do anything wrong, but as well did Levi behave recklessly. He’d acted on emotion, as good as he might be at hiding them; they’re there. He’d been so enraged, infuriated, finding out that Eren and Jean had been sexually involved.

The excuse at first had been the gay-card. Two boys, together, despicable. How dare this smelly teenager taint his Eren? Those tanned fingers, those thin lips, that slimy tongue had all touched Eren’s golden skin. Not to mention, Jean’s eyes... Jean’s eyes had witnessed Eren’s face in the act, had observed him writhing in pleasure, had watched him go down on his disgusting dick.   
And his ears... they had dared to capture the boy’s moans, had listened closely to his gasps, had heard him slurp and choke.

Yet, there lies the truth. It’s not that these boys have fooled around. It’s that one of these boys is Eren. And Eren belongs to Levi. He’s belonged to Levi the moment he’d been born. Even though Levi had despised the kid as he’d stolen Carla from him, there’s history between them; Eren and Levi. Levi and Eren. They belong together, in whichever way is suitable; an aspect Levi’s still trying to figure out.

He wants him with such intensity, with such irrational, visceral hunger, that Levi doesn’t know how to handle it. If he could kill and revive him forever, that would perhaps satiate some of his hunger. He wants to eat him. So badly. He wants Eren to be his’. He wants this boy to be part of who he is. He wants to hold him until their bodies fuse together in a mis-match of organs and flesh. 

It’s such an overwhelming craving that Levi at times just wants to grab Eren by the face and scream at him. Squeeze his skull until blood is drawn and cracks are heard.

Levi trembles, the inside of his mouth prickling as it begins to salivate and the only thing snapping him out of his absurd cravings is the sound of a floorboard creaking in the hallway.

Exhaling in a shudder, Levi glances at the bathroom door. Wouldn’t it be ironic were Eren spying on him for a change? Amusing. 

He smirks.

And just like that, he’s back to himself. Back on earth. Emotions packed up and shoved back into the closet.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, Levi walks out of the bathroom, surprised when spotting Eren to his right. The kid’s squatted in front of his bedroom door, he’s peeking through the keyhole.   
Is he checking for monsters?

Levi frowns, still is in awe of how fucked up this kid is. He’s insane, in every shallow sense of the word. There’s no need for a diagnosis, a medical term... No, Eren’s just that; insane. Not entirely lost quite yet. But he’s getting close.

“Knock  knock .” Levi whispers, leaning against the wall to his right and finding pleasure in how Eren nearly falls on his ass in his hurry to get up.

“Levi.”

He says his name a lot, lately. Yet, he no longer seems to pinch himself. It makes Levi consider if Eren’s starting to give up on his hallucinations. If he’s starting to accept them.

“You’re naked.” Eren adds, dumbly, his body stiff and awkward as his eyes can’t stop staring at Levi’s body.

The man amuses him by looking down at himself.

“Not entirely.” He murmurs in a lazy tone. A tone he knows affects the boy because he’s caught him shivering more than once when speaking to him in such fashion.

“Do you want me to?” Levi questions him, teases him as he hooks a thumb behind the towel around his waist.

He adores pulling reactions from the boy. His smirk widens, his lips pressing together to hold back a grin as he watches Eren sputter and turn his head in every direction to avoid looking at Levi.

Ah, it’s entertaining, yet only slightly. In all honesty, Eren’s quite the bore. He’s cowardly. Not as much as Jean, but still... If Levi were to attack him, Eren would cover his eyes and hope it’d stop rather than fight back.   
Then again... It’s an assumption. When cornered, people act out. Levi’s a great example of that, though his corners seem rather trigger-happy.

“What were you doing?” Levi gets back to the point, pushing his weight off the wall and sauntering over to the boy who resolutely turns so his flank is facing him rather than his front.   
Eren stares at the bedroom door. His eyes blink a couple of times, betraying the panic in his mind.

“I heard a voice inside.”

“Did you now?” Levi mocks him, coming to stand next to the boy, his bare chest pressed lightly against Eren’s arm. The boy doesn’t move away, though Levi can tell he’s holding his breath and likely is too afraid to shift as is.

“Yeah. It was yours though, so I guess it’s just another hallucination.” Eren murmurs with a frown, gazing at how Levi’s hand rests itself on the door-handle.

“Or am I the hallucination?” Levi murmurs in a low voice, leaning in, incredibly excited even after having jerked off minutes before. Eren smells good. He inhales his scent. In intimate moments like these, he tends to forget about gender, tends to just want to taste him.

“Stop that.” The boy weakly returns and Levi’s incredibly pleased when Eren carefully swats him against the chest with the back of his hand. He hasn’t a clue of Levi’s intentions. He swats him in such playful fashion –though shy- as if the man’s not someone to worry about. As if they do this all the time.   
Levi grins, flashes teeth as he takes a step back, leaving the honors of opening the bedroom door to Eren himself.

Though the boy keeps glancing at him from the corner of his eye; showing Levi that he isn’t entirely at ease with the man’s pushy approach, he isn’t bothered. Levi’s trying different things, tries to mimic interactions observed before in other people. Not only to have this boy open up to him so he can eventually devour him, but as well because he himself wants to know where he stands.   
He himself needs to know what it is exactly that makes him want to be close to this teenager.

At times he wonders... If Eren had been a girl, would he have fucked him by now? Or choked him to death? Female voices are rather chirpy, they talk fast, they’re needy, demanding and it’s everything Levi despises in a person. He’s never been good around females, the lack of a mother might be the cause.   
Carla, on the other hand, she’d spoken slow, she’d been rational, not ruled by emotion. She’d been only slightly cocky, but it came from wisdom, not attitude. Levi respected her.

Eren has her eyes.

Licking his lips, Levi observes the nape of Eren’s neck as the boy walks into his bedroom.

His stomach flips at the thought of following him inside. 

He could.

It’d be easy.

As he leans in the doorway, arms crossed, watching Eren kneel onto the floor to look under his bed...   
How he wishes he’d been underneath there, grab the boy, pull him under, wrestle him until he gives up and lets Levi do whatever he pleases.

“Don’t forget the closet.” Levi teases as Eren gets up. Their eyes meet and the boy remains tense, narrows his eyes at his comment.

“Does he hide in there?” Eren asks. It’s rhetorical. They both know he’s been seeing and hearing monsters in his closet.

“The hallucination or me?” The man throws back, raising an eyebrow. Eren’s jaws clench. The boy shakes his head to himself, muttering something under his breath as he opens the closet door, peeking inside before closing it again.

As Eren sits down on his bed, sunlight brushes his hair; it’s glossy, oddly healthy for the mental state he’s in. Would he have caved were his body as unhealthy as his mind? 

“I have some things to do. Would you like to join me, Eren?” It’s a horrible thing to ask considering his afternoon plans consist of tracing back to where he’d buried Jean to dig him back up and set him on fire.   
Then again, if Eren were to join him, he wouldn’t even remember.

He never remembers.

It’s not even because of the sleeping medication Levi slips into his drinks so he can watch him at night, undisturbed for hours. Even without those Eren would still manage to shove away any negative memory, anything shocking.   
He could defile him right here. Cut a piece of his thigh and eat it. And he’d still not remember, even with the chunk missing from his leg. However, it wouldn’t be defilement, would it?   
Eren likes his attention. His breathing becomes heavy, the scent of his sweat thickens and his pupils widen whenever Levi speaks to him in whispers.

He likes Levi.

And it should disgust the man. Honestly, it should. Yet... ah, such a dilemma.

Licking his lips, Levi awaits Eren’s reply which never comes.

Instead the boy just lays down, curls up in a fetal position. Their eyes meet for a second before Eren closes his, dismissing Levi wordlessly.

Rejection. It’s sour but expected. Levi grimaces, knows only he himself is to blame for failing to lure Eren closer than he has so far.   
He’ll manage though, eventually.

Giving up for now, Levi leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

The scent of Eren lingers inside of his nostrils for hours after.

* * *

Snot runs down his face as he keeps begging, crying, bawling. Levi doesn’t listen to whatever he is saying, just counts to ten in his head before slapping the boy across his cheek.

“Keep digging.” He sourly demands before standing back up from his squatted position. Looking down at Jean who’s been digging dirt for over an hour in cold, heavy rain, Levi feels nothing but annoyance.

He’d been stupid to not bring an umbrella. His hair and clothes are soaked as he’s been standing here for ages as Jean takes his sweet time digging his own grave. He keeps pausing every few minutes, keeps trying different tactics and words to influence the man.

Wind whips the wet strands on his forehead back and forth, blows so hard that ghostly sounds whoosh in between trees and the shells of his ears. Levi’s mind is chaotic, hundreds of questions rummaging around, half of which are directed towards Jean.   
He doesn’t know where to start.

Especially since the kid doesn’t stop whining. An incredible disgraceful act to behave like this in his last moments. He’s not even going out with pride. He would’ve likely offered to suck his dick if it weren’t for the fact that Levi had very much expressed being disgusted by the idea of homosexuality.   
Jean’s already offered plenty of money... Foolish to believe all Levi wants is money. Frankly, that’s the last thing on his mind.

So, what does he want?

Plain and simple, vengeance. Vengeance for Eren having been tainted by this swine before Levi could.

“Why did you decide to touch him?” Levi asks, raising his voice for it to overpower the noise of wind and rain.

Jean looks up at him, chin deep in his grave. He blinks rain from his eyes –or tears-, wipes his face and Levi watches him open his mouth. He stutters, shoulders in a half-shrug as he searches for an answer before his voice cracks into a sob.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, man. I don’t. Please. Please, let me live. Please, I don’t-” 

“Just answer the question, Jean.” Levi interrupts him, his skin crawling at his embarrassing behavior.

The boy’s eyes dart across Levi’s face, certainly trying to figure out what reply Levi ‘wants’ to hear.

“We couldn’t sleep. He spoke about his parents. How they died. And he felt lonely. So, I just... I just hugged him, man. I was comforting him.”

Levi scoffs. Squats down carefully. Even when lowered, Jean has to look up to meet his eyes.   
It’s enjoyable.

“Did he tell you his parents died in a car accident?”

“Y-yeah.” Jean nods, wipes rain and  snot from his face.

Levi motions him over, curling his fingers to touch the palm of his hand. Jean, hopeful as ever, steps closer, stands on the tips of his toes as Levi leans down to meet him. Jean could pull him down in the grave, overpower him momentarily... Perhaps he’d even be so lucky to bash Levi’s skull in with the shovel.    
But Levi, though sick in heart, isn’t stupid and knows Jean’s broken.

Curling his fingers into the collar of the boy’s shirt, he pulls him up slightly, places his lips against his ear.

“He lied.” Levi whispers, very much aware of the truth.

“Something terrible happened to them... But it wasn’t an accident, pretty boy.”

Jean’s so focused on his words that when Levi lets go of him, he almost slips down the mud in the grave.

“Did... did you kill them?” Jean asks after a moment.

Levi smiles at him, a cold, mocking smile, before he stands back up.

“What’s your favorite body-part of his?” The man asks, changing the topic, relieved the weather is settling down slowly. The wind is less noisy, though the rain still pours.

“What?”

“Your favorite part of Eren’s body.”

“Why-”

“Answer me!” Levi shouts. It doesn’t happen often that he raises his voice, but when he does it never fails to surprise people. His speaking voice is hoarse, soft and light, yet when raising it, it’s like a bark. A demand. A threat.

“H-his eyes!”

“What else?!”

“His lips!”

“What else on his body?! Not his face!”

“I- don’t -I’m-”

“What else, Jean?!” Levi shouts at him, leaves him no times to think or calm down.

“His knees! His knees! I love Eren’s knees! I don’t know why, I just, his knees!”

Levi almost laughs. What an odd confession. His knees, really? Out of having seen his entire body, Jean has optioned for Eren’s knees? He can’t even recall having paid attention to them when watching Eren shower.   
What’s so interesting about knees?

“Why?”

The boy looks as confused as Levi is about his confession. They’re both frowning. Staring at each other as if neither of them speaks each other’s language. Which might come close to describing the differences in their minds. Or the difference between Levi’s and everyone else’s minds, more likely.

“I don’t know. They’re knobby. I like bony parts on bodies. Like ankles and wrists. But his knees... they’re sensitive. He-he really likes being massaged there. So, I’ve come to adore them.”

Though terribly agitated that this kid dares to adore any part of Eren, he’s as well intrigued by the new information. He makes a mental note to try and touch the boy on his knees later on... Perhaps that’ll soften him up a bit.

“And on you? What does Eren like about you?” 

Jean sniffles, apparently having gotten emotional talking about the boy’s knees, or perhaps it’s because he’s starting to realize that he’ll never touch a single thing again.

“I-… I’m not sure. He, he said once that he likes how I am on the inside. He believes I have a good heart.”

Levi blinks at that.

“So, your insides and your heart?”

“Yes.”

Levi nods, knowing what to do with this information.

The night progresses slowly, it takes a few punches to the face to get Jean to lay down in his grave and another few kicks when he keeps trying to get up as Levi starts shoveling the dirt back on top of him.   
He screams so much that his voice actually breaks. Levi hadn’t even known that was a possibility. But, sure enough, as the muddy dirt piles up and Jean’s body begins to disappear, his screams for helps sound like a mere kitten’s whine.

Pathetic, truly.

Levi smokes about five cigarettes on top of Jean’s grave. The rain has settled, as has the wind, and only a calm, full moon night remains.

As an hour has passed, assuring the boy’s passing. Levi makes work of retrieving his insides and heart to display on Eren’s bed.

After all, though Jean’s to blame, Eren shouldn’t be left unpunished.

* * *

“What do you mean I can’t go to school?” Eren questions Levi’s words, his green eyes wide and bright today, rather than dull and tired. As if waking up on Mondays brings him pleasure solely because he can be gone from Levi.

The man holds back a snarl.

“They’re worried about your hallucinations. They think it’s safer you get home-schooled.”

“This cabin just makes me go more insane!”

Though offended, Levi’s delighted to see  fight within the boy. Eren actually raised his voice, actually scowls at him. Not such a bore, perhaps?

“I can’t change it.” Levi lies. 

The truth has been half-said. Eren has been kicked out of the school, yet if the information as to why is kept to himself, Levi could sign him up for a different one in town. Yet, there’s no boarding schools anywhere close and he’d be damned to drive four hours a day to bring and pick this kid up. Letting him stay over at a friend who lives near a school for the week is just absurd. He’d never.

Regardless, he hadn’t been kicked out just because he’d passed out in the bathroom with a bloody nose.

Not quite. Actually, the boy fails to remember that he’d been caught by a teacher, banging the door of a toilet-cubicle against his own nose, repeatedly, purposefully.    
Now, if that isn’t fucked up, Levi himself would be a lot closer to being considered normal.

He considers telling him, but closes his lips instead. It would serve him no good to know he’s hurt himself without realizing. It’d just drag him down deeper and Levi doesn’t want to live alongside an emotional wreck.   
At the moment, though intense, Eren’s still entertaining to him. His delusions don’t affect Levi incredibly much, except for the fact that they seem to scare him away from him.   
However, he’s been working on that for a while now... Slowly figuring out what the kid reacts to well.

Nevertheless, as unstable as Eren is, as immoral Levi is. And the man finds it difficult, at times, to not torture Eren a bit. Like burning the feet of a monkey to make it dance. Hurting it for personal gain.

Not too much. Just a little. Just enough.

Eren goes as far as to slam the bedroom door shut in Levi’s face and the man holds back a smile at the petulant teenage behavior.   
How adorable.

His stomach rumbles.

Yet again, Eren serves in making Levi grow even hungrier than he already has been these past months.


	18. Popping Jaws

There’s a new creature in the house.

Surprisingly it’s the one leaving hand-prints. Eren’s caught it peeking through the keyhole of his bedroom - door when walking up the stairs.

It doesn’t seem too bothered being caught, or perhaps that’s because it can hardly move since its entire body is shriveled and stiff, pitch-black, crumbling at the edges. Like it’s been burnt for days. Just a charcoal skeleton.

Its head turns to face Eren.  There’s no eyes, just gaping holes, it’s jaw hangs open yet there’s no teeth.

“Are you looking for me?” Eren asks it. 

It takes some time before a groaned wheeze resounds weakly. When it nods its head, slowly, burnt skin and cartilage crumbles off from its neck, scattering onto the floor, leaving marks.   
Eren isn’t afraid, and this alone means he’s dreaming.

Even though he’s seen it when awake as well, this time around it has come to visit Eren in his sleep. The boy sensed before that it wants to tell him something, or show him, yet can’t in the real world.   
Or wait... In Eren’s hallucinations. Perhaps the boy’s conscience holds back information that is able to be spread only when he’s knocked out.

That makes sense, right?

Walking closer carefully, the thing turns its skull back to face the door. It lifts an arm, bones crackling, more pieces falling off onto the floor, and  it points at the keyhole.

“Is there someone inside?” Eren asks out loud, glancing at the burnt body which takes a step away to allow him room. Eren squats down, placing his hands over the prints left behind, leans forward and closes one eye to peek through the keyhole.

With his vision narrowed, Eren fails to see anything but the middle of his room as well as the window straight across from the door. It’s dark around the edges, the center hardly illuminated by dusk.   
Eren can hear floorboards creaking from the inside; someone is walking around.    
He holds his breath, leans sideways to try and spot anything farther to his right from where he’d heard the noise. The boy’s mind is so focused on listening to the quiet, on watching the empty, that he barely manages to stifle a yelp when a shadow flashes across his sight.    
Something passed by the door and only seconds later does Eren hear his closet door creak.

It went in there.

Whatever thing’s been spying on him for so long went inside of his closet. He can catch it. He’s dreaming, it’s fine. He can go in and-

Eren flinches when a hand comes to rest on his shoulder. It’s black, the earlier thought sharp nails are merely burnt off finger bones that have shaped themselves into pointy ends. Glancing up over his shoulder shows the skeleton towering over him, looking down at Eren, jaw still agape as if its continuously wailing without sound.

“What?”

It shakes his head slowly, some particles of ash flutter down onto him. The thing is telling him not to go inside.

“I need to know.” Eren assures it, curiosity making him grow desperate to find out if it’s indeed Levi sneaking around  inside  his room or merely a thought up being. After what had occurred in his office, after the hint that perhaps Eren’s dragging the man into his own delusions, after considering that he himself perhaps in the curse –the trigger- and not this man nor this cabin... He needs to check.

Its hand slips off his shoulder when he gets up to open the bedroom door. Peeking inside, Eren notices immediately that the closet door is ajar as it so often is. Before entering, Eren glances over his shoulder, finding that the skeleton has left, black footprints remain on the floor where it had stood.

Not paying mind as to why it had tried to stop Eren in the first place, the boy walks towards the closet, reaching out a hand and letting his fingers linger on the golden knob. He hesitates, can feel vibrations in the air meet him, can hear breathing coming from inside.    
It’s not Levi. The rumble of inhales is too deep, proving a large chest to allow the sound to rattle around in. Though Levi’s voice isn’t high, by far. It is soft, strained at times as if it’s stuck in his throat and never quite comes from the stomach. It’s an attractive pitch, however.

Firming his grip on the door-knob, Eren slowly pulls open the closet, revealing absolute darkness. It’s unnatural, the depth of it, the intensity of it, so hostile not even the light from outside’s dusk dares to illuminate its c ontents .

The breathing is louder now the door’s opened. Eren squints, tries to find the creature producing this sound, yet he can’t see a thing. However, the sound grows in volume and the boy stumbles backwards when hot air touches his face on the creature’s exhale.

“Who are you?” Eren asks, his hands are trembling, as are his knees. Still holding on to the door, ready to smack i t against whatever’s-in-there's face, the boy  awaits for it to reveal itself.

Moments follow as both Eren’s and the thing’s breathing increases, grows louder, quicker, more erratic until fingertips protrude the shadow inside. Like breaking through pitch-black water, a pale hand reaches out towards Eren, palm up, inviting to be clasped.   
Eren observes it, takes in its size, the dirt underneath the nails...

“Erwin.”

Sure enough, no one other than Erwin appears, eyes momentarily closed as his face breaks through the black, revealing his large posture; hunched inside of the closet.

“Where have you been?” Eren asks in a whisper. The man still looks ill, still ha s dirt in his hair. His eyes are red; exhausted, his skin pale; graying.

Erwin drops his hand slowly, he looks somber, expression betraying a melancholy that is transferred in the dark surrounding him. He doesn’t reply.

“I was worried about you.” Eren adds, recalling the night he’d helped him into his bed. That night before he’d hallucinated about his bed being covered in guts and flesh. He shivers at the memory, can still smell the heat of it.

“Were you, really?” Erwin questions him, causing Eren to pause in thoughts, glancing up to meet the man’s ice-blue gaze. His pupils are small,  when  considering the lack of light in their surroundings.

“You never did ask Levi how I was doing.” The large man adds, doesn’t move, just stares at Eren as if confronting him with a truth the boy has yet to reveal to himself.

“Have you ever even mentioned me to Levi, Eren?”

A peculiar question to which Eren doesn’t know the answer. Has he? Has he spoken about Erwin to Levi?

“I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember.” Erwin agrees with a nod, not so much repeating the boy as he’s confirming his words. He believes him.

“Have you considered you’re not talking about me to Levi because you’re aware that I’m dead?”

“What?” Eren’s heart skips a beat, his stomach flutters. Erwin is dead?  So had he died that night? The boy had thought of Erwin as a man living in this house alongside them. Which doesn’t make sense. Afterwards, Eren at times had considered Erwin to be yet another hallucination. Which would make more sense if it weren’t for the fact that he’s seen his social workers interact with him the first day he’d gotten here.

Or had that been Levi? Disguised already by Eren’s delusions?

Eren sucks his lower-lip between his teeth, anxious at the new information given to him.

“You don’t remember Levi telling you, yet you fail to bring me up as a topic to him. So, part of you does know. Part of you, Eren, knows the truth.”

“What truth?” Eren asks immediately, his heart pounds rapidly, even though except for Erwin’s shambled state, nothing horrifying is being revealed to him... Or at least, not visually.   
The information shared with him however, is worrisome.

If Levi has told Eren that Erwin’s passed away and Eren can’t even remember this serious conversation, then what else has been told to him that he can’t recall. Moreover, what has been done to him or what has he been doing that he can’t remember?

“Your life. The creatures you see. The new one...” Erwin adds, glancing at the doorway where the skeleton had been.

“You know who it is, Levi told you.”

“What did he tell me? What do you mean with- These creatures don’t have identities.” Eren feels breathless at the thought of his hallucinations carrying secrets with them that have been given to Eren in the real world. Why can’t he remember anything? Why do these words not make sense to his present self but make his past-self whine in the back of his mind?

“Your delusions are your reality, start picking them apart instead of waiting for real life to come back around to you.”

Eren opens his mouth, frowns, wants to ask Erwin to explain himself before the man turns around. The movement is awkward in the confined space, however, before once more swallowed by the closet’s depth and shadows, Eren sees it.   
In the back of Erwin’s head; a gaping hole, shaped perfectly round and revealing a part of his brain, writhing underneath its glossy membrane. The hair around the clean wound is matted down with dried blood.

The injury makes sense. He doesn’t know why, but it does. As if he knows. Somewhere hidden within the curls and corners of his brain.

Before he can follow him, stop him and ask him what happened to him, the closet door is tugged from his hand and slammed shut so loudly that he jumps up in his bed.

He’s panting, sweating, his heart pounding. Eren darts his vision towards the closet, finds it shut rather than ajar as it is throughout most nights.

The dream had been unlike any other he’s had before. It’d been calm, yet full of information, words and riddles. Eren is aware that logically speaking, dreams are conjured up by  conscious \- and  sub conscious memories, events, processing what he’s been through. Yet, who’s to say he’s not hallucinating while asleep as well? Who’s to say he wasn’t just awake, experiencing delusions? Maybe even his dreams are made-up.

Glancing at the door where the skeleton had been, Eren’s stomach turns when finding the bedroom door wide open. The hallway, as always, is pitch-black and Eren just knows he’s being watched. He can feel eyes drilling through him.   
Inhaling through his nose –shakily- allows him to catch the scent of aftershave. Levi’s aftershave.   
It is the man, isn’t it? Levi’s spying on him. Like Erwin told him in the past... Levi enjoys being close to him. 

It’d make sense.

It’d make sense as to why Eren never feels physically alone in this house, not even when taking a shower. It’d make sense why he keeps hearing sounds, keeps seeing shadows in his peripheral vision.

So, if this is true, then why? Why does Levi follow him around, why does he watch him? It’s odd behavior, certainly, yet if his intentions had been harmful to Eren, would he not have acted out by now? Would Levi not have hurt him by now if that’s what he wants?

Swinging his legs out of bed, Eren gets up, walks towards the hallway without stopping once and is only slightly surprised when he comes face to face with Levi as he exits his bedroom.

They stare at each other in silence.

“What do you want?” Eren asks in a whisper.

Levi doesn’t reply, but his eyes are dark, his jaws clenched and the boy wishes he could turn on the light to read the man’s face. He’d be able to, tonight, can sense it in the revelation of his dream. There’s truth to be  laid  bare in this very moment. It’s displayed in front of him, all he needs to do is reach out and grab it, decipher it, accept it.

“Do you want to hurt me?” Eren asks and is struck by the memory of when he’d tried to jump out of the window, when the devil had held him; assured him it did not want to hurt Eren. Eren had bit its hand and though Erwin had been revealed moments after, the very next day Eren had witnessed a Band-Aid on the inside of Levi’s hand.   
Levi had been that devil, had he not? Levi had held him back from jumping, had calmed him down, held him in his arms, had assured him he isn’t out to hurt him.

“No. You don’t.” Eren replies to his own question. His head is light, his mouth dry.

“So, what is it that you want, Levi?”

Levi takes a breath, it trembles, his head tilts sideways and his eyes dart across the boy’s face. Eren’s never before seen this man struggle this much to find his words.

“You.” Is his whispered answer.

Eren’s stomach flutters.

“Is that why you’re afraid of me?” Eren asks him, recalling the conversation in Levi’s office only a few days ago. The man had confessed he is afraid of Eren, yet had assured him it’d been for reasons Eren’s not quite aware of.   
Yet, as young as he might be, as insane as his mind is, Eren has caught hints of interest from Levi. The man might express his intrigue in odd manners, but Eren’s wishful thinking has assured him –carefully- that Levi must like him for having been on his parents’ list as well as for keeping up with living alongside a hallucinating, traumatized kid.

Surely, he must.

Levi’s smile creeps onto his face slowly, widens for plenty of seconds before it falls right back off his features. It’d almost transformed into a grin, something that always manages to put Eren on edge. He’s beginning to dislike the flashing of teeth between  stretched- taun t lips.

“Sure...” Levi lets the word linger between them, his tone so light and lilted that Eren isn’t sure whether it’s sarcasm or whether Levi wants him to think he’s lying.

“I don’t... You can- I mean, I just think that... That if you want- and you don’t-” Eren stutters, tries to tell Levi in the vaguest way possible that if he wants to touch Eren in any manner that won’t hurt him; he’s allowed. The boy craves physical affection, feels so alone on this world that even being touched by a man who is as eerie as he’s attractive, as seductive as he’s suspicious, is a welcoming thought.

Levi seems to translate his words, or perhaps doesn’t care. He doesn’t seem like a man who will sit around for permission to get what he wants. He’s a taker after all... A predator. The creepy one.

The boy gasps when Levi grabs him by the throat, pushes him back into the bedroom so rapidly that Eren stumbles backwards, barely managing to land on his bed rather than the floor and hit his head. He hadn’t seen it coming. The man’s hand had moved so quickly it reminds Eren of a snake striking out towards its prey from the bushes. It’d surprised him so greatly that he only now starts to put two and two together, that he only now –on his bed- realizes what had happened.

“Levi- I-” As Eren stutters, fears for his life with the man straddling him, with the man’s hand squeezed around his throat, Levi moves down.

Their lips touch. 

It isn’t a kiss.

Holding his breath, the boy watches him wide-eyed, winces at the pressure the man is putting on him. He can taste blood as Levi presses his mouth more firmly onto his’, the power behind it making Eren’s teeth feel like they’re about to pop right out of his gums.   
What is happening? Is this a kiss or a damn misplaced headbutt?

Eren places his hands against the man’s shoulders, pushes against him though he doesn’t even budge. His clothes are wet, slick, bloody and when blinking, Eren recognizes the blood-soaked creature from school above him.

“No!” Eren whimpers against its lips, shoves it, yet the more he resists the harder it chokes him, the harder it presses its mouth against his. Until jaws start to pop. Not the creature’s, but Eren’s. His face is breaking. He’s being crushed, he’s being murdered. The pain is agonizing. His teeth scatter into his mouth, blood spills, ears ring.

He’s dying. He’s dying. He’s dying.

When his heart does stop beating for a split second, he jumps into consciousness.

With a scream Eren jumps out of bed, stumbles, trips and turns around to check the bed behind him.

No one’s on it. No blood, no creature, no Levi.

A nightmare within a dream...

Eren gets up quickly, exits the bedroom, ignoring how the door is opened. He jogs down the stairs, nearly trips once more, before rounding the balustrade into the kitchen, turning on the lights.

Still panting, Eren prods his jaws. They hurt, though they’re not crushed like they’d been in the dream. Stroking his tongue over his teeth assures him he still owns all of them, yet can taste a hint of blood. He’d been laying on his stomach, his face had been pressed in the pillow... It explains why he’d been choking, why his mouth hurts.

Leaning on the kitchen table with both hands, Eren catches his breath. Every inhale is shuddering, every exhale carries a whimper along with it until at  last tears spill. Eren lifts a hand to his mouth as he begins to sob uncontrollably, his entire body shakes behind the force of them, and even his knees give out; forcing him to slip onto the floor where he sits, crying, alone.

It proves to be the longest and loneliest night of his life so far.

* * *

Erwin doesn’t show up anymore. Not in his hallucinations and not in his dreams.

The charred skeleton as well is nowhere to be seen, its prints as well are gone. 

There’s no nails scratching the inside of his closet, which as well remains closed and never seems to open on its own anymore. Moreover, there’s no breathing underneath his bed and no footsteps shuffling at his door.

The house is incredibly quiet. Even the forest surrounding it seems to lie still. Awaiting an arrival, or a happening of grand caliber.

The more ‘normal’ his surroundings feel, the more on edge Eren becomes and his days are spent studying with shoulders pulled up; expecting an attack at any given moment.   
Now that he isn’t attending school any longer, Eren is once more left with only his own thoughts and even those seem deceptively calm.   
Even when he tries to ponder over something that should raise anxiety; he just grows too tired to. His brain just lays low, assures him there’s nothing to waste what little energy he has on. 

He’s so tired.

The words on the page he’s reading dance around, double in amount as they spread apart before shivering back together.

“Shit.” Eren groans, rubs his eyes and gets up from his chair, leaving his desk in favor of calling it a night.

No dreams accompany him. The closet remains closed, as does his bedroom door.

The only thing off; how his brain feels cloudy and his tongue like cotton.


	19. Fanatic Perspectives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay D: I had a very busy weekend so didn't get to proof-reading this chapter and uploading it.  
But, here it is. Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> And as always, thank you for the many comments and kudos. It helps me out so much!

“The biggest trick the Devil played on humanity is making it believe he isn’t real.” 

Erwin’s words are spoken calmly, though there’s amusement in his eyes and Hange isn’t sure whether he’s trying to pull a reaction from her or genuinely enjoys blabbering about nonsense. It’s likely he’s just taunting her. 

She amuses him by allowing him some free range when it comes to taunting her with riddles. His behavior says more than his words do and with the knowledge that she’s playing him as much as he is her, Hange has some faith in diagnosing and eventually helping Erwin. 

Yet, he sure as hell doesn’t make it easy for her, what with him talking about supernatural beings and how he’s lately been dreaming about eating human flesh.   
It’s hard to tell what’s spoken to create a shock-factor and distract her from reading too deeply into him and what’s honesty. 

Even if lying, it isn’t something average to do; speaking about cannibalism and devils this lightly. 

She observes his pale features, his small stature, his raven-black hair. Erwin’s peculiar in looks as much as he is in personality. The polar opposite of his step-brother Levi; a tall and blond Adonis who’s incredibly friendly, incredibly kind, incredibly patient with his brother. He’s as well the one who’d convinced Hange to see Erwin after hours. 

And so here they are. It’s nine in the evening, this is their seventh appointment, and Hange feels like she has some kind of grasp on him. She thinks... Yet, the eighteen-year-old keeps surprising her every time. 

“Do you believe in the Devil?” She asks him, swaying her foot as her legs are crossed, before stopping herself; noticing how his eyes linger on the movement. Erwin is reading her as much as she is him. 

“Would you consider me part of humanity?” He returns and Hange presses her lips together, doesn’t know whether to roll her eyes or take him seriously. Is he faking this or not? She isn’t sure. With only one year of practice underneath her belt as a psychiatrist, she lacks experience. 

“You are human.” Hange matter-of-factly states. 

Erwin glances away from her, twiddles his fingers for a moment before he shrugs. 

“Yet not humane.” 

Her question has not been answered, something she’s used to by now. This boy will often not give her a straight answer, and hence she is forced to put most of her attention into reading him, closely, with a very open mind and plenty of assumptions to puzzle together and reveal an inevitably odd creature. 

“What makes you think that?” 

“It’s not just that I think that. I know that.” 

Hange considers him for a moment before continuing. 

“I assume you know the definition of a psychopath?” 

Erwin nods. 

“Does it fit you?” 

The young man shrugs, stares at something behind Hange’s shoulder before speaking. 

“To a degree, certainly. I find it hard to feel for others, but it’s not impossible for me to experience emotions. So, by definition, no, it doesn’t.” 

“Not impossible. You say this because you’ve loved someone before?” 

At this Erwin scoffs, shifts in his seat as if uncomfortable with the question, which –going by his furrowed brows- he actually is. 

“Not love. Just an addiction to an unrealistic relationship I’ve built in my head rather than real life.” 

Hange chews on his words before putting two and two together. He’s likely speaking about Carla Jäger, a family friend whom he seems rather fond of. Their relationship seems rose-colored when framed by Erwin, yet the blond Levi’s told her before that Erwin’s obsessive adoration of her is not returned.   
As well as this, is Hange aware that this boy lost his mother through child-birth and hadn’t had a female role-model for most of his life. Though not an excuse for his outrageous words, it does explain a lot as to where he’s coming from; mentally. 

“But that idea’s been shattered three years ago when she spawned that boy.” 

Quirking her brow at his choice of words to describe the birth of her son, Hange writes down his exact exclaim on the notepad in her lap. 

“You don’t like him.” She declares. 

Erwin ponders over the claim longer than she’d anticipated. 

“I do, actually.” 

She nearly forgets to write this down in her surprise at his reply. He’s spoken only a few times about Eren before and it’d always been accompanied with a snarl of disgust on his sharp features. 

“What changed? I mean, you used to not be too fond of him.” 

Once more he shrugs. His gray eyes glance away to the floor, which could be a sign of conjuring up a lie though his body language and facial expressions seem too chaotic for her to read with confidence... She wonders if he does this on purpose and if so, if he has a clue that he’s expressing wrongful emotions during certain remarks. 

“His eyes changed. They’re like Carla’s now. Long lashes and almond-shape included. They’re... feminine.” 

Hange had expected him to tell her something along the lines of that he’d held him and that perhaps Eren had taken a hold of his finger and giggled at him. That’s normally the thing that makes people bond with babies and toddlers. 

“He resembles her more. Like a second chance.” Erwin murmurs softly, as if speaking to himself, as if explaining it to his own brain. 

It does make sense, for him. Hange knows his adoration of Carla borders on obsessive and it’s quite predictable that since having lost her, he’s looking for someone else to take her place, to allow him to continue living in a made-up future.   
Yet, with his crude manners and violent remarks, she’d expected of Erwin to despise Eren even more since he not only has taken Carla from him but as well looks like her; a mocking reminder. 

Again, she is wrong about him. 

“Do you dream about him?” She asks carefully. 

“Like you dream about Carla?” 

Erwin glances up at her through his eyelashes, his eyes brooding, as if he’s insulted by this question. Yet, a smirk creeps on his features. 

“The cannibalistic ones, you mean?” 

Not giving a reply to this is enough of an answer to him. Hange feels uncomfortable whenever he smiles. It’s always creepy, always off, never touches his eyes, as if he’s learned how to smile from a snarling wolf in the woods rather than from a loving parent. 

“Not yet. I don’t dream often anymore about consuming Carla, either. Which, to my knowledge, is a good sign.” He speaks in such a bland –almost bored- tone that Hange has to suppress a shudder. He’s so calm about it. 

“The more interested you are, the more often you dream in such a manner?” 

Erwin nods. 

“Do you think these dreams about eating people you like, are a metaphor for wanting them to be a part of your life?” Though it’s not advised to word such opinions and suggestions as they might influence his answers to her, Hange’s noticed Erwin responds well to this tactic. Whenever asking him yes-or-no questions, or even open-ended ones, he tends to beat around the bush. Yet, when suggesting assumptions, his desire to clarify or gloat get the better of him. Narcissistic. 

“That’d be a cliché reasoning, wouldn’t it?” Erwin asks, amused. Hange doesn’t agree with that. Dreams about eating other humans are incredibly rare to come by, and when they do, it in fact is often related to obsessive desires to control someone, demean someone or plainly wanting someone to be a part of the person. 

“Maybe, I just want to eat people.” Erwin lifts his hands as he says this, shrugging in an over-the-top expression of ‘who knows?’. 

Hange smiles stiffly, amuses him only to make sure he’ll come visit her again. This kid needs help, after all. He’s not okay. Not by a long shot. 

Opening her mouth to prod deeper, the light beeping of her watch chimes between them, ending the session. She tends to lose all sense of time around Erwin, never quite able to wrap things up beforehand. 

“That’s our time for today.” She murmurs as she looks down at her watch, pressing a tiny button to shut off the sound. 

“We almost got somewhere, this time.” The young boy teases, hinting that they hadn’t before and Hange isn’t even that certain she’d disagree with that. The only thing she’s figured out this far is that he’s got issues with affection, has never felt loved and seems incapable of loving another. His emotions are black and white. He either hates you or tolerates you and if you’re lucky –or unlucky- he'll grow absurdly fond of you.   
There are some diagnoses in her mind, yet she doesn’t feel comfortable labeling him as he seems to be the exception on each and every one of them. Symptoms never quite match up entirely, throw her for a loop when figuring them out. 

That, or he’s an incredibly talented liar and is one step ahead of her. 

This thought alone causes her to grow tense. What if all these appointments she’s had with Erwin have only been plays, shows dedicated to her? An entire waste of time in which she’s only fed his odd behavior and perspective on life itself? 

Holding back a grimace, she shakes his hand, leads him out of the office and watches him descend the staircase, hands in the pockets of his jeans as he jogs down, whistling. 

It doesn’t suit him. 

* * *

Levi, Erwin and their father disappear off the face of the earth. A triple homicide is what’s suspected as they traced the trio’s DNA in the blood and on the weapons found within their home.   
A part of Hange, right at the start of hearing the news suspects Erwin to be guilty, to have done something to his brother and father. 

Yet, it’s a ludicrous thought. A judgmental one as well. Erwin was a troubled boy, certainly, yet he was a ‘boy’. Young, angry, unloved and frustrated. But she can’t see him capable of sledgehammering his family to death. Granted, you wouldn’t imagine anyone being capable –physically, let alone emotionally and morally- of doing such a horrifying thing. Yet, it’d happened. And someone had done it. 

And about a year later they do actually catch the person who’d done this. An old friend of Erwin’s father, a business-partner with whom he’d been in debt with. Though declared insane, he admits to all of it, yet never tells authorities where the bodies are. 

And that’s that. 

Hange goes through life, starts up her own business as a psychiatrist, helps plenty of patients. Yet, never does she come across anyone quite like Erwin, ever again. Regardless, he sticks to her like a scar, something she’ll never quite get rid of and recalling Levi’s words in the past, Erwin had the tendency to haunt people’s minds. 

On an afternoon, grocery shopping, she bumps into Carla. She recognizes her from pictures Levi had shown her, pointing out the resemblances she had with Erwin’s birth-mother.   
Though it’s been over half a decade, she still looks beautiful, youthful, full of life. 

She wants to greet her, but is aware it’s pointless. There is a desire within Hange to heal anything left open, and Erwin is an open wound that remains bleeding. A great part of her wants to still figure out what had been 'wrong' with him. Seven years after his death, she still thinks of him, wonders what could’ve become of him had he not been murdered. 

Never knowing... assures that a piece of her will never find rest. 

Waken from her thoughts as a boy brushes past her, she watches none other than Eren Jäger walk to his mother, holding up a toy-dinosaur, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he begs her to buy it for him.   
He is as beautiful as his mother. His eyes, like Erwin had mentioned during their last appointment, are feminine and large, incredibly green, cat-like in shape. Even his lips are fuller than seen with boys on average and his nose has yet to grow into whichever peculiar shape it’ll be. 

Carla catches her smiling, tilts her head in question and Hange realizes she must look like a creep in this moment. 

“Sorry, your son looks incredibly much like you.” She explains herself and true to how Erwin had spoken fondly of Carla, the woman does in fact smile back at her rather than grow wary or rude. 

“So I’ve heard.” Carla ruffles the boy’s chestnut hair. Eren is still too focused on getting his mother to buy the toy for her, ignoring Hange entirely. 

She wonders if she would’ve been able to help Erwin; if he would’ve managed to build a healthy relationship with Carla and her son. It is possible. Well, it had been... Once. 

“Sorry, but...” Carla continues, tilting her head even more as she takes the dinosaur from Eren to stop his whining, placing it underneath her arm. 

“Aren’t you Mrs. Zoe?” 

This surprises Hange. She has never met the Jägers in person nor was she ever in touch with them. Perhaps Levi spoke to them about her helping Erwin, which still wouldn’t explain why she’d recognize her on looks alone, seven years later. 

“Uhm, yes, how do you...” 

Carla sighs as she tilts her head backwards, claps her hands once in excitement or disbelief. 

“I knew you looked familiar. Levi’s shown me a picture of you in the past. He thought highly of you. I never got to thank you for giving Erwin therapy after-hours.” 

“Oh... it’s nothing.” Hange watches, surprised, as the woman walks over to her and shakes her hand before placing it back on the crown of Eren’s head who’s glued behind her; holding on to her long, floral skirt as he looks up at Hange. 

“I assume you know what happened to them?” 

“Yeah, I heard the news back then. Tragic.” 

Though nodding, Carla’s eyes glance away from Hange for a second as she looks down at her son who seems tense at the conversation or Hange’s presence. 

“I think they have the wrong guy.” 

Hange’s heart skips a beat at Carla’s words, a long pause follows as the woman looks back up at her, trying to read her face. 

“He pleaded guilty.” Hange tries. 

“He was also labeled insane.” 

The brunette watches her with intent, as if she’s trying to convince Hange with her gaze alone, as if she needs Hange to believe her, as if she walked around with this thought for years on end. 

“What are you trying to say?” Hange asks in a whisper, incredibly intrigued by this woman who, not unlike Hange in the beginning, seems to see more complex truths than the ‘facts’ displayed in front of her. 

Covering her son’s ears, Carla leans in, glances left and right before replying in a frustrated and anxious hiss. 

“I think the father did it.” 

This is not the assumption Hange had expected, and it shows in how she takes a step back. 

“Their father?” 

Carla nods, looking down once more as she now combs Eren’s hair with her fingers before covering his ears once again. 

“The way Erwin and Levi spoke about their father, with fear... How much debt he was in... The prostitutes and gambling... I believe it was a murder suicide, cleaned up by the person who’s now doing time for them.” 

An interesting take on it, though Hange doesn’t see why Carla would believe this. Is she biased...? Then again, she was closer to the trio than Hange and likely knows a lot more about what went on behind the scenes. In all honesty, she herself had never heard Levi speak badly of his father, not even Erwin –who seemed to loathe the world- spoke about him. 

“You never suspected Erwin?” 

Her eyes widen at this and Hange knows her answer by the surprise on her face. 

“No. Erwin was... odd. Very troubled and lonely, but he would never. I can’t imagine him... It’s not possible.” 

The conversation reminds Hange of a quote she once read, about how the most logical reason is more often than not the truth. It’s logic for a reason and these wild assumptions about a teenager murdering his entire family just because of a mental illness... It’s ridiculous. Besides, it only adds to the stigma of mental health issues. Hange almost feels guilty for believing these things. 

The conversation with Carla carries on long enough for Hange to find out that she did not in fact dislike Erwin nearly as much as he claimed her to. Emotions mistaken for disgust had been that of worry for him as well as for herself and her family. It rubs against her earlier reasoning that Erwin is not someone to be particularly scared of. After all, why had she been so careful around him if she’d not been worried about getting harmed? 

Regardless, Hange is aware of her own wild imagination and after this encounter she is finally able to let Erwin’s case rest. No more pondering, no more phantom diagnoses. 

Yet, a few years later, she once more experiences absolute shock. 

With agape jaw she follows the news-story of how a thirteen-year-old boy had set his father on fire in his grandmother’s kitchen. Names are not revealed, yet the picture of who she knows to be Grisha Jäger –alas, Eren’s father- appears next to the young woman reporting the news in front of the house in which the crime had taken place. 

Not one to believe in coincidences, it makes her doubtful that the extremity of both Erwin and Eren’s cases are just that; coincidentally brutal. 

Again, Hange’s mind conjures up absurd theories. Theories she doesn’t even dare think through out of respect for Carla and Eren.   
Yet, they’re there, creeping around in the back of her mind, whispering, taunting... 


	20. Amber Liquids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Friday the 13th, a fitting excuse for another chapter.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this one, have a great weekend :)

Staring up at the sun, Eren wonders if his eyes will burn out of their sockets if he watches it long enough. Unlikely, since he’s been out here, laying on the backyard’s grass, gazing at the sky above , for hours .

It’s Sunday, an awful day in which he never fails to grow bored.   
Leaves are starting to wither, flutter down from trees and revealthe beginnings of bare branches. Summer is gone and Eren tries to enjoy one of the last times this year that he’ll be able to lie outside in just a t-shirt and pants.

With hands folded underneath his head, ankles crossed, grass tickling the skin of his arms and feet, the boy grows tired in every melancholic sense of the word.   
His eyes flutter, his heart slows down, his entire body relaxes at the sound of chirping birds, rustling leaves, the warmth of the sun cascading atop of him, the scent of flora and the freshness of inhaled air.

It’s been a long time since he’d been able to relax this much by simply being out in nature. He doesn’t remember enjoying it before in his life, but in this moment it’s almost therapeutic, familiar.   
Two weeks have passed. Two weeks in which nothing’s occurred. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Everything’s been so plain and bland the boy had actually been bored half the time, grateful yet suspicious the other.

It’s refreshing to say the least.   
Though Eren still experiences exhaustion frequently and in sudden waves that take him by surprise and force him to stop whatever he’s doing to go and lay down, mentally he’s actually rested.

Like a new person. Kind of.

The red of his closed eye-lids darken and he can feel the heat pull away from his face as something blocks the sun.

Opening his eyes, he’s met by Levi standing over him. He hadn’t heard him approach, hadn’t even noticed him placing a foot beside each hip.

“Hey.” Eren greets him, finds  t h at he no longer seems creepy, though their conversations have maintained their absurdity.

“How are you feeling?” Levi asks him.

“Great.” It’s an exaggeration but at least it’s not a lie. Not anymore. Though he wouldn’t say he’s doing well, it’s still between an ‘okay’ and ‘good’. Quite the improvement from the delusional mess he’d been not that long ago.   
He still suspects he’ll sink back into that state however. Yet, now that time’s passed, he’s not fearful of trying to enjoy the peace. Especially considering how amazing it is to feel grounded and normal for once.

Levi doesn’t smile at the news, too buried in thoughts to respond.

“Yes, that is indeed wonderful, thank you.” Eren replies for the man and Levi just scoffs at him; shaken from whatever he’d been pondering.

“Would you like to get drunk with me tonight?”

A peculiar invitation. Not a generic ‘would you like to have some drinks with me?’ which is already quite clear in its meaning. Eren wonders whether he’d worded his question wrong, or if he just said what had to be said.   
The latter is more likely, even with the sun blinding him from reading the man’s expression, Eren’s pretty sure by the tone of his voice and the fact that he’s standing above him, that his question came out as intended.

Levi’s confident. Clever. And  more over enigmatic as to this day the boy cannot figure out what it is that Levi wants from or of him.

But Levi does want something. Eren can feel it from the ends of his hair to the tips of his toes.

The promise of alcohol, loosened tongues and minds, sounds as promising as it does terrifying.   
Promising because he might be able to tug some answers from the man. Terrifying because, well... Levi remains an enigma; not to be trusted as long as Eren can’t figure him out.   
He’s been here for months, and certainly he’s yet to hurt him. But... something about him... Seems wild, chaotic, animus.

Yet, some braveness has returned as of late.  Or is it naivety?

Eren reaches out a hand towards the man towering over him and Levi seems as surprised as he is at the request.

“Help me up.” Eren murmurs, rubbing his eyes which itch from the ironically-angelic glow created behind the man blocking the sun.

Levi takes a hold of his hand, his skin rough yet warm, and pulls him up onto his feet.

Brushing off the back his pants to get rid of leftover grass, Eren ignores how Levi’s staring at him intently, quietly.

“What time?” Eren mumbles.

“What?”

“What time do you want to get drunk?” Eren clarifies, glancing at him shortly before looking away, finding his cold gray eyes unbearable to look into.

Levi takes so long to reply that Eren eventually does gaze back at him, standing across of the man, awaiting an answer, wondering why he’s so still.

When the man reaches out towards him, Eren flinches, stops himself from taking a step back. It’s interesting how he is more suspicious of Levi now that his mind is clear rather than before when he’d been going insane and had begun to perceive this man as a form of stability throughout the hallucinations, throughout seeing wolves and devils alongside Levi.

Then again... He’s basically accepted the invite to throw inhibitions later that night.

Levi, though having paused when Eren flinched, resumes reaching out, touching Eren’s hair. For a second, Eren absurdly believes the man will stroke his head, cradle the back of his skull, tug him closer... Yet, his hand is pulled away, holding up a blade of grass.   
He lets it flutter onto the ground, reminds Eren of that one time he’d plucked a hair from his shirt.

Eren had been different back then.

As had Levi.

He thinks.

“When it’s dark.” Levi smirks slightly, barely visible, and Eren has to rewind his mind to remember what his question had been.

“Why?”

Levi reaches out again, fingers brushing over Eren’s cheekbone and he waits dumbly for the man to retrieve yet another piece of grass.   
However, his heartbeat stutters along with his breaths when Levi does exactly what he’d fantasized about seconds earlier.

Pulled closer, bending slightly to accompany his shorter height, Eren holds his breath and wills the knot in his stomach down when Levi exhales softly onto the shell of his ear. The exhale is slow, yet there’s a pressure on it c reated  by intentionally having closed off his throat, causing it so sound strained and ominous.

Eren grows tense. Blinks away the shadows dancing between the trees in the distance.

“Atmosphere.” Levi whispers and though Eren blames his own perverted fantasies, he could’ve sworn the man intentionally let  his lips  brush over the corner of his jaw, inhaling deeply.

Rather than step back, Levi moves forward, their shoulders brushing as he passes him by and disappears into the cabin behind him.

Calming down his heartbeat by slowing his breathing, Eren closes his eyes for a few seconds, collecting his thoughts before glancing over his shoulder at the house.   
Levi’s gone, not peeking at him from the shadows... And no matter the tension, even the building seems more friendly-looking underneath the sun and through the filter of a more peaceful mind.

* * *

No time spent with Levi ever passes by without incident, it seems. No conversation had with Levi results in the satisfaction of having had a wholesome and –most of all- normal interaction. Nothing done, spent, or  whatever  else involving Levi is ever anything but bizarre.

Eren sits stiffly in one corner of the three-seat couch, leaning away as much as he can without being obvious as Levi boldly plays with the strands of hairs that rest upon the nape of Eren’s neck. Unlike the boy, Levi’s facing him, one leg pulled up on his seat, not bothered by the silence or how thick the air between them feels.

“How much did I drink?” Eren asks, awkwardly, his words slurred even though he doesn’t remember having drank more than two glasses of strong alcohol. Not enough to get him this foggy, this heavy.

Levi tilts his head, something he does so often when reading him. Eren’s at least figured that part out. He knows that in this moment he’s being scrutinized, analyzed, judged perhaps.

“Enough.” Is his reply. No number, no ‘a lot’ or ‘a little’. No, he has to be vague with it. Like he is with everything.

Though trying not to shiver every time Levi allows a finger to accidentally brush over the skin of his neck rather than twiddle with his hair, the boy can’t help but let his eyes flutter close when it happens for the dozenth time. Levi, as mysterious as he is, isn’t subtle, and likely that’s on purpose.   
Eren suspects he knows what Levi wants, though hardly believes it to be true. They’re both male and Levi’s twice his age, Levi’s seen him act outrageously throughout his hallucinations... There should be no interest in him from a man as grown, collected and cold as Levi.

“How much did you?” Eren adds, tries to keep their conversation going so the man won’t lean in closer and try to kiss him.

He isn’t sure why the thought scares him away.    
After all, Eren remembers the dreams he’s had about him. The one where he’d bit through his cheek, yet had been rubbing his hard length in the crook of Eren’s hip. And the one where he’d pressed his lips onto Eren’s, yet so hard it’d crushed his face. Not to mention, the real event where he’d grown aroused in Levi’s car as the man had done nothing but lean in close, had waited for Eren to take that first step to kiss him.

That’s what had happened, right? Levi had waited for Eren to take  the  initiative .

Is this why he keeps playing with Eren’s hair, giving him heavy-lid eyes and soft smirks? Is this why he made sure to get the both of them drunk? So he’d collect the courage, or allow Eren to grow bolder?   
Eren’s mind shudders at the thought, isn’t sure what he’d do were things to progress.

Kissing Levi... it seems like a desired thought, yet the man’s so odd, so unpredictable, that something about it scares Eren. He’s been over this a dozen times, about how if Levi wanted to hurt him, he would’ve done so by now.   
But what if he’s as shy with hurting him as he is with planning to kiss him?

Shy... A very ridiculous word to describe Levi  as . A wrongful one at that. It’s not that he’s shy... Eren assumes Levi’s just very restrained in some ways, perhaps has a fear of losing control.

But, the man isn’t easy to read, whatsoever. So how has he come to this conclusion?

These times are rare, yet, in this moment, Eren feels like he knows Levi better than he thought. Like they’d been through this before.

“Four.” Levi replies after downing a tumbler of amber liquid. It’s not the same drink Eren’s been given. 

When leaning towards the table, disposing of the now empty glass, Eren stiffens at how the fingers on his neck clasp on firmly for balance; using the boy as leverage.

“More than me.” Eren states, if only to fill the absolute silence.

Levi settles back into his previous position, blinks lazily as he eyes Eren’s face, his  thumb  brushes over the shell of his ear. Levi likes his ears... Right? He always whispers in them, brushes them, breathes against them. Would he bite them if Eren would allow it? Would he bite them if Eren didn’t allow it?

His stomach flutters at the thoughts of having no say in what will happen to him and he’s not sure if it’s caused by anxiety or excitement. He’s been out of control his entire life, like a loose cannon, ready to tumble into horrifying hallucinations... Wouldn’t it be incredible to be grounded by a man as confident as Levi? Or would it only trigger his anxiety, conjure up delusions while being handled by him?

Or would it grant him freedom?

“Not quite.” Levi replies, his jaws tensing as he holds back amusement. Why is he amused? What is going on in his head? Is he plotting? Is Eren being paranoid?

“Have you seen anything out of the ordinary lately?” The man’s voice is soft, thoughtful, hoarse with the amber drink he’d downed.

“I don’t think so.” Eren softly says, assuming he’s been free of torment for the past two weeks but he can never be sure of this. The memory loss  he experiences is so intense that he’s forgotten his own identity before arriving at this cabin.

“Do you feel more like yourself?” 

An interesting question. Eren melts against the warmth of Levi’s palm placed against the side of his throat. It’s comfortable and so human... like their knees touching. Grounding. Stable. Real.

“I guess.” Eren admits in an exhale, finds his vision growing blurrier as he finally meets  Levi’s intent gaze.

“Yeah?” Levi hums and Eren thinks the man moves up his hand to stroke his cheek, a thumb brushing just beneath his eye... He isn’t sure though, the alcohol hitting him like a brick, dragging him down through the couch. Or so it feels like whenever he closes his eyes.

“Yeah.” The boy nods.

“Do you want to go to bed?” 

Levi’s question doesn’t register as Eren’s too busy trying to control his rapid breathing, willing down the heat and the flutters in the pit of his stomach. He’s never felt like this before, not even when he’d experimented with recreational drugs at the age of thirteen. Yeah, a solid memory, that.

“Eren.” Levi whispers, deep and raspy like a purr. His voice is close, so close he can feel his breath; hot and urging, luring, convincing.

“I don’t feel so good...” Eren slurs, feels his heart skip beats, his eyes so heavy he can’t open them, yet he doesn’t need to see to know the world around him is spinning, toppling. He’s going to fall.

“Easy...” The man’s voice is far away and even though he catches Eren before he can slump off the couch, even his body feels far away. 

Levi hushes him. 

Regardless, all Eren can hear beside the distant voice is his own hollow breathing, loud as if his ears are closed off. The world keeps spinning until he doesn’t know which way is up or down and all he can do is panic.   
Though his anxiety causes his heart to beat fast and in an irregular rhythm, his brain is fifty steps behind, still having to catch up with his body’s warning signals. Though his weak muscles desire to flee, Eren’s mind sees no rush and instead revels in the numb.

Eren thinks he’s being lifted, feels the pressure of the couch underneath him disappear, feels himself bop, heat pressed against his side. Is Levi carrying him or is he fluttering down a bottomless pit?   
If it weren’t for how he can’t even think straight, Eren would’ve been worried for the fall, the landing.

It does happen.

Eren does lay down on something. Soft, melting, deep. Warm. So warm, the entire night.

* * *

Throughout the night, Eren wakes and passes out continuously. He hears the door to his closet creak one time, footsteps at his bed another, breathing in his ear one moment, slick warmth against his nape the other.   
Eren catches glimpses of the devil, pitch-black, bony and long-limbed, hunched as it tip-toes almost comically through the room, slowly to the closet, hastily and eerily fast back towards Eren in bed.

The boy can’t even scream, can’t even move, is completely out of it except for some senses that try to pull through, and succeed marginally.

The devil crawls behind him on the bed, lies against Eren’s back, sniffs his hair and drags nails teasingly over his skin. Eren can hear its lips crack, skin popping, can feel it grin against his neck. 

It talks to him the entire night.

It tells Eren that it doesn’t want to hurt him. That it just wants his company, his attention. That it will protect him if Eren lets it taste him.

It promises him that it will eat him one day. That it’ll wear his skin, writhe in his guts, bury him with his ‘boyfriend’ and ‘the friendly one’.

It confesses to him that it really, really likes him though . Unbearably much. Painfully so. And once more, it doesn’t want to hurt him.

‘Doesn’t want to’... not ‘won’t’. A worr isome difference in definition .

* * *

Eren sleeps for what feels like days before he drags himself out of bed to once more nod off while in the shower. He’s so weak he collapses, sits down on the porcelain and lets the shower-spray do its work. He tries to remember what had happened before he’d woken up like this and the last things that come to mind are sitting with Levi on the couch and sleeping with the devil; being held by it so tightly his chest still hurts in this very moment.

His hallucinations are back, safe to say, and once more hopelessness fills him up. Eren wants to sob, feels his entire face heat up, his nose and eyes prickle in anticipation, but he can’t. Not a sound or tear is spilled and all the boy does is sit underneath a blanket of cascading hot water until it turns lukewarm, cold, freezing.

With a deep inhale, Eren reaches up, goes to turn off the spray and finds the devil standing next to him, holding the shower-curtain aside as it stares down at him.

Eren says something, yet he doesn’t know what, too out of it still. His ears ring. His world shifts. He passes out, again.

This time around however, the boy wakes in light. White sheets, white night-stand, soft green walls, white bracelet.   
It’s familiar, soothing, promising to finally have ended up in a hospital.


	21. Orange Leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE FORMATTING ERRORS omg my apologies

Against expectations, Levi does visit Eren at the hospital, or perhaps is forced to as his only guardian. 

Gazing at him, Eren waits for horns to break through Levi’s skull, waits for leather wings to sprout from his back, waits for his lips to part; bare sharp teeth in a wide grin. He even awaits a forked tongue to slither from his mouth. More than ever before is he convinced that Levi is not the man he thinks he is, not a man in the first place. 

He’s a monster. Eren keeps dreaming of shadows crawling from dirt, wailing at him that they’ve been tortured and slaughtered by no one other than Levi. They beg Eren to run away from him. They urge him to watch his back, to not let him in; don’t listen, don’t be tempted by the Devil himself. 

Levi’s been luring him in from the start. Has been charming in ominous ways, ways he’s adjusted over time accordingly, observing Eren and deciding what tactics to use to keep a veil over the boy’s eyes. His gut had been right from the start. Levi’s the creature. 

“You look like shit.” Levi mumbles, looks almost disarming with hands buried in the pockets of his black coat, one of his feet clad in a boot swaying as it rests on the heel. Even his shoulders are pulled up and his light eyes glance away regularly. The body-language doesn’t match his words. Doesn’t match him. 

A game. 

A lie. 

Levi’s putting up a show, just for Eren, as he’s been from the start. When looking back, Eren remembers how often the man had changed his demeanor, his attitude, making it incapable to read him, in the middle of conversations and interactions. Though surely that is the point, it as well is just a side-effect of being a bullshitter. A transparent one at that. 

It hadn’t been Eren’s delusions. Levi _ has _been creepy, been clever, been charming, been seductive, been crude. It’s all the man, not the boy. 

“You’ve been discharged.” Levi mutters, glances over his shoulder at the door he’d shut behind him. 

Rather than reply, Eren observes him closely, refuses to blink. He’s up to something. 

“Come on, get dressed, so we can go home.” 

Disagreeing with labeling that cabin as a _ home _ , let alone _ their _home, Eren grabs the sheet on top of him into his fists, squeezes. Stays. 

“I’m not going.” He says, his voice weak, mouth dry. 

Levi frowns and something sadistic within the boy finds pleasure in seeing him confused, even if he’s faking it. 

“You don’t have a choice.” Levi throws back, defensive rather than curious or understanding. He didn’t ask Eren why, he didn’t question himself, he didn’t request suggestions. No, he just threatens him. Like he has been. 

“I want to speak to a doctor.” Eren firmly states, recalling he’s yet to meet anyone but the few nurses he’s seen yesterday. Nurses who refuse to tell him what had happened, just like that teacher had, they avoid his eyes, change subjects. 

“You had a panic attack.” Levi shares, seemingly annoyed going by the tone of his voice, and just like that his previous behavior and demeanor have changed places with something more fitting the situation and his hidden agenda. 

“I don’t believe that. I want to hear what’s wrong with me from a doctor.” 

Jaws clench and nostrils flare as Levi’s eyes flutter closed, holding them back from rolling, or perhaps from drilling right through the boy’s skull. 

“Fine.” Is his surprising reply. No fight, no back-talk, threat or denial. 

Eren watches Levi turn on his heels before exiting the room.   
Staring at the door as minutes pass, Eren awaits his return, together with a doctor, eager to hear the truth he knows will never come from a being such as Levi. There’s newfound animosity within the boy, every fiber of him urging him to blame Levi for everything and anything that’s went wrong in his life. Bitterness, as well, accompanies his senses, a bitterness for living alongside a man who couldn’t care less about him, a man who will rather play him than grant him answers and safety like he deserves, like his parents would’ve wanted for him. 

Grief. Grief for having lost everyone, himself included. Mourning for an identity wavering; dissipating.   
Rage for the lack of a steady, bland normalcy. 

There’s no hope left within Eren, only a craving to battle the world and it shows in how he stands up against Levi when he returns without a doctor. 

“Where is the doctor?” Eren frowns, getting out of the bed and having to hold on to the iron bar at the foot-end if not wanting to collapse. His knees wobble, his heart trembles.   
Levi reaches out, going to help him stay on his feet, yet Eren slaps away his pale, bony, creepy hand. 

Glancing at the man shows dark eyes, tight lips, stiff shoulders. 

“Don’t touch me.” The teenager hisses, refusing to feel embarrassed as he now has to lean with both hands onto the bar to maintain standing. 

Confused rather than agitated this time around, Levi drops his hand and stands awkwardly across of him. The man’s eyes lower, notifying Eren that he’s thinking of something to say. 

“Did you sleep with me?” Eren interrupts the man’s pondering, not allowing him time to conjure up another manipulative lie to get Eren to trust him like a naïve fool.   
At his question, Levi’s head snaps back up, gaze wide, lips parted for a few seconds before he scoffs. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Stop acting like_ I’m _the crazy one!” Eren shouts, a fit of anger and desperation boiling up so quickly it catches both the man and himself off guard. The emotions overwhelm him in their suddenness and he lowers himself back onto the bed, panting. 

“Eren...” His voice is soft and when a palm comes to rest on the boy’s shoulder, Eren’s instincts tell him to shake it off, yet his mind... no, something else within him revels in the warmth, the grounding, the presence of human contact. He’s starved for it. Yet, he’d been loathing Levi seconds earlier.   
Once again, his body can’t keep up with his mind. Or is it the other way around? 

“You’re not crazy. You’re just sick.” The man murmurs, goes as far as to lean over, pulls Eren into an embrace so soft... So kind... So not like the Levi he knows. So achingly, oddly _ familiar _. 

Eren doesn’t want to reach up and hold on to him. Really, he doesn’t, he shouldn’t. Every thought in his head tries to remind him that Levi is the bad guy in his story, he works with demons, with the devil, he’s not good for him, Eren’s been collapsing into himself from the moment he’d met him... Really, really Levi isn’t right for him. 

And yet... His mind grows quiet with the embrace. 

“What’s wrong with me?” Eren asks him, wraps his arms around his shoulders, buries his face in the crook of his neck, inhales his aftershave; soothing, safe. Familiar. 

The man exhales, it’s shaky, but not creepy, not suspicious, not loaded with malicious intent. 

“Don’t worry. We’re fixing it.” 

Though Eren wants to ask him who ‘we’ are and ‘what’ is to be fixed, he instead relaxes into the touch. Secure. 

And yet, moments earlier... 

Eren can not trust his own emotions, his instincts are off, his eyes and ears witness happenings not correlating to the world around him. And so here he is, embracing the devil himself, holding on to him with desperation shown in how he’s buried his fingers into the back of his shirt, how he pulls him closer when the threat of separation nears. 

“Don’t.” Eren whispers as Levi tries to pull away. 

“Don’t. Not yet.” 

Though stiff for a few moments, Levi soon relaxes back in their embrace, holds him tighter, brushes his thumb over a shoulder-blade. 

“Okay.” Levi says. 

“Okay.” He repeats and it sounds like a promise Eren’s yet to decipher. 

“I was so certain I’d fight you and the world just seconds ago.” Eren admits, squeezing his eyes shut as a headache creeps up on him from where Levi’s laid a hand onto the base of his skull. The contrast between the comfort of Levi’s palm rubbing his back and the cold bite of fingers squeezing his nape is unsettling. Like he’s being held by two different beings. Two different Levi’s. And it makes him consider, just for a second, if Levi’s the sick one. Not Eren. But this man, split in the middle, one half sickly pale, the other tar-black with blood. 

“And then you touch me... And I forget everything I believe in.” The boy whispers, blinking open his eyes and staring at the wall across of him. His vision is blurry, shadows shudder. 

“I forget who I am.” 

Levi holds him closer at his admission. 

“You’re Eren. Just Eren. A boy resembling his mother’s beauty and kindness and his father’s strength and curiosity.” 

With these words he’s reminded of the fact that Levi knew his parents once. It makes him wonder why he’d never tried to ask him about them as Levi could tell him things that’d freshen up his memory, show truths he’s forgotten or distorted, ground him in his own identity as Eren Jäger and not this... This bundle of torn about brain matter.   
Why had he never spoken about them to Levi? Then again, it might be because Levi keeps changing as well. Does this man know who he himself is? Is he as messed up as Eren? 

“You’ve always been affectionate.” Levi continues softly, whispers into the boy’s ear, his breath warm and his words bouncing around inside his skull. Yet, it’s pleasant. The shadows seep down the green walls, pool onto the white tiles beneath, drain within the cracks. 

“When you were small... Holding you was enough.” 

“Enough for what?” Eren asks, ignores the pounding of his heart, only able to focus on how his ears seem to pop, sounds around him crisp, present, no longer dull and distant. His vision as well grows sharp. His surroundings come into focus and Eren wonders how long he’s been seeing the world through a veil of distortion even when thinking all was well. 

Has he been seeing blurry from the start? 

When was the start? 

“Enough to help you through these episodes.” 

Eren stirs at his words, knows he could’ve gotten this information from his mother yet... Yet, it’s not... He’s speaking about them; Levi and Eren. Eren and Levi. A past between them. They know each other. Or, Levi knows Eren. Yet, Eren’s mind’s... Eren’s delusions... 

“Who are you?” The boy asks carefully, voice trembling as he pulls away. 

Levi lets go, straightens up, digs his hands back into the pockets of his coat and pulls up his shoulders as if wanting to hide as much of himself as possible. Is he going to lie? Again? They stare at each other, Eren with intent, Levi with consideration. 

The man opens his mouth, hesitates before the corner of his mouth curls up into a nervous smile as he chuckles and looks away. 

“Eren.” 

“Tell me.” The teenager urges, desperate, out of breath as he reaches out and clings onto the man’s sleeve, afraid he’ll walk away or dissolve on the spot. 

“Do we know each other?” He adds when Levi only looks at him. 

“Have we? Have we known each other?” 

There’s something within the man that is considering either the truth or a lie. Levi licks his lips, observes the boy’s face, his body is stiff, he looks absurdly tense when considering how oddly he normally behaves without a care. He looks human, hasn’t done a single creepy thing the entire time being here today. 

No horns have sprouted from his skull and no forked tongue has lapped at him. Nothing is off except for the trembling in Eren’s vision earlier. 

Yet in this moment, everything’s sharp, contrasted, clear and crisp, as if Eren’s senses have awakened. As if every fiber of instinct within him is watching out for him. 

“Yes.” Comes his surprising reply and it even seems to take himself off guard. The man rolls his shoulders, his eyes a tad too wide, blinking a bit too much and too rapidly, as if regretting the answer given. 

“Yes? When? Why can’t I remember you?” 

“Because you were too young.” 

Why doesn’t he believe him? Why does Eren feel like they’ve had this conversation before? Why does the boy find himself enjoying his touch, his embrace, the scent of his aftershave and the sound of his voice? Why, if not for a past lived with him in security, where perhaps he’d been normal and Levi had been a support?   
This familiarity he’s been experiencing can not come from a time when Eren had been a baby or even a toddler. No one remembers anything from that age, right? Though, it’s bitterly amusing to note that he can hardly remember six months ago... So how can he know for certain if not trusting his instincts? 

Instincts which, in all honesty, as well have been off before. 

Or have they? 

Is this sensation yet another thing made up? 

“Get dressed.” Levi murmurs, peels Eren’s hand from his sleeve and turns around to leave the room. 

No. Not this again. Not this hinting at an answer and vanishing. Not this disregard of his cravings. Not this.   
Eren jumps up, runs after him, only manages to not collapse because he grabs Levi by the shoulders; tries to turn him around but only has it result in Levi grabbing him by the elbows and shaking him. 

“Stop this!” The man’s voice is loud, shockingly so, like a thunderstruck in his skull, rattling him. Even Eren’s heart skips a beat, as if not certain it’s allowed to do its job what with having been reprimanded. 

… A peculiar thought to believe his heart’s been hurt by Levi’s outburst. 

“Eren. It’s not time yet. You’re too weak.” Rather than have his words soothe him, Eren grows agitated at the threat of once again being left in the dark.   
The boy shoves him, yet the assault only results in himself almost falling backwards if it weren’t for Levi holding on to his elbow. It only results in angering him more and with his free hand, Eren again pushes him. 

“Just tell me what’s going on!” The teenager shouts, repeatedly shoves Levi with his left hand as he tries to tug his right elbow from his iron grip. 

The mere fact that the man doesn’t seem one bit impressed by his display of rage only frustrates Eren to the point where he feels his face heat up and his entire body shake. 

“It’s not time yet.” Levi repeats, his voice lacking intonation, bland and calm... So obnoxiously self-contained, so horrendously in control of everything. It infuriates Eren that this man not only has a hold of Eren –can see right through him- but as well that nothing seems to shake him. Nothing Eren does ever quite takes Levi by big enough surprise to have him lose touch with reality like Eren does. 

This man would never understand. 

He will never understand what it is like to live your entire life as if drugged, as if a disappointment, as if unwanted and unloved and where does this all come from? Why does he feel like the entire world has given up on him? Like he’s been dumped with this man, the last choice, because no one wants Eren. 

No one. 

Because he’s fucking insane. 

“Fuck you.” Eren hisses and though still shaking, he takes a few deep breaths before aggressively tugging his arm from the man’s grasp. 

They stare at each other for a moment longer in which Levi’s face is unreadable and Eren’s on the verge of spilling tears just out of frustration alone. Like a kid... A damn child. 

“Can you leave so I can get dressed?” The boy asks, his voice deceptively calm, bland, dead. 

Levi seems to blink from his thoughts, lets his eyes travel down and back up the kid’s body before he does turn around and leave the room. 

And just like that, Eren’s vision grows blurry, his ears ring and the clothes he dresses himself in fail to carry any sensation over to his skin.   
Numbed. 

* * *

Though it doesn’t feel like home, the cabin is all Eren knows and he finds himself walking around inside of the building throughout the day, hide in his bed at night.   
His closet remains closed, for now. Voices underneath his bed are absent, for now. Levi doesn’t grin at him, for now. 

He watches the man below, working in the backyard for some unholy reason as fall has arrived. Eren doesn’t get why he keeps spending time raking leaves, the garden looks like shit either way and new leaves will fall tomorrow.   
There’s no point in repetitive behavior such as this. But when did Levi ever make sense? 

Eren finds himself continuously thinking back to the experience in the hospital.   
The conversation, though vague, had been more revealing than any had before with him. The atmosphere as well had been unlike what Eren’s witnessed before. Not to mention, the embrace. 

Burying his nose in the arms he’s folded underneath him on the window-sill, Eren tries to force the memory away. Regardless, as it had these past days back home, the sensation and imagery of their embrace elbows itself back into the forefront of his mind. 

Home. 

Did he just call this place home? 

Eren’s brows furrow at the slip-up. They furrow even more when thinking of his previous thought as a slip-up in the first place. As if there is a subconscious love for this horrendous cabin.   
There’s no way. 

He hates this place like he hates Levi, right? 

Levi who, he’d apparently known as a child. Which was to be expected when considering this man’s been viewed as an option to take care of him were something to happen to his parents. 

But, why had he been absent throughout his pre-teen years then? Why had his parents never mentioned a Levi? 

‘Or are you just conveniently forgetting this as well?’ Eren’s thoughts tease. 

It’s possible. 

Very much so. Like a weak cop-out. 

With thoughts swirling around, Eren’s only shaken from them when Levi glances over his shoulder, up at the bedroom-window to meet his gaze. Neither of them look away and though they haven’t spoken for days, the man gives him a nod.   
And Eren, against the desire of his stubborn sulking, unfolds an arm to wave once at Levi with his hand. 

Rather than continue with his work, Levi motions for him to come down and it surprises himself when he gets up immediately to run out of his room.   
Like a damned, eager puppy he jogs down the stairs, exits the kitchen, meets Levi outside. 

He bites back the urge to grin, sucks in his cheeks before his face cracks itself into a smile. Levi blinks at him, returns the greeting by pulling up the corner of his mouth and nodding once again. 

There. 

All made up. 

Finally. 

“Help me move these bags.” Levi commands, picking up a black trash bag, rounded in shape, which lies next to three of its clones. 

Staring at the plastic sacks, Eren wonders for a moment what could be inside them before reminding himself Levi had been raking leaves. Right, leaves.   
Nothing creepy. Just some garden trash. 

As Levi picks up a second one and starts to walk into the forest, Eren hurries to pick up the remaining two, huffing at the weight of them. 

“Why are they so heavy?” Eren calls after Levi, readjusting his grip before lifting the sacks and following the man. 

“Because they’re wet. It rained last night.” The man throws back over his shoulder and Eren can almost hear him roll his eyes. 

They walk uphill for a long time and the farther they get from the cabin, the more Eren’s reminded of when he’d tried to run away only to find himself frightened by a wolf before breaking his leg. Someone had told him there’s no wolves in this area but for the life of him, Eren can’t remember who it had been. Levi? Erwin? Himself? 

“Are there wolves here?” Eren asks before groaning and letting the bags drop from his grip. They impact with the ground heavily, firmly, not what you’d expect a pile of leaves to sound like. Ignoring the thump, Eren rubs his arms, soothing the ache of having carried such heavy weights for at least over fifteen minutes now. 

Levi stops walking though doesn’t put the bags down, holds them like they weigh little to nothing. He glances at Eren for a moment. 

“When it’s dark.” A smirk joins his answer and before Eren can measure the creep-factor of it, he’s turned around and continued on his way. The answer reminds him of when he’d invited Eren for a drink... 

Picking up the sacks, Eren hurries after Levi. 

“For atmosphere?” The boy asks, hints at their earlier conversation that same week, wonders if Levi will remember and if not, if it’s because Eren’s imagined it entirely. 

“Don’t be weird.” Is his dry reply, seemingly not at all catching the hint at their previous talk. Not at all remembering how he’d whispered ‘atmosphere’ into Eren’s ear is such a promising, threatening tone it still sends shivers down the boy’s spine today. 

“For slaughtering.” Levi adds to Eren’s surprise. 

Slaughtering. 

An odd word to use to describe a wolf’s desire to kill for food. People slaughter, animals kill. People murder, animals survive. 

The woods around them are foggy at the early hour and the boy grows chilly. The air around them is damp, thick, tree trunks a faded black as they’re wrapped in gray slivers of mist. The only thing missing, Eren concludes when looking up at the bare branches above them resembling long bony fingers, is the chime of a crow’s caws. 

“Where are we going?” Eren asks, wondering why he hadn’t asked this during the first twenty minutes. 

“Here.” Levi murmurs, stops in his tracks and puts the bags down. 

Glancing around after having followed the man’s example, Eren finds nothing out-of-the-ordinary with their surroundings. That is until he comes to stand next to Levi who’s looking down at deep, oval-shaped hole in the ground.   
It somewhat resembles a grave, definitely large enough the fit a human being in it and like a gunshot the memory of Eren’s nightmares shoot into his consciousness. Bodies crawling out of wet, black earth, wailing, reaching out towards Eren’s ankles, begging him to not trust Levi. 

Rigid, Eren glances at Levi from the corner of his eye, too frightened to even move his head. Is this it? Is this where his story ends? Is he going to be shoved into this grave together with these bags that are definitely too heavy to consist only of leaves, these sacks that have a pungent stench protruding from them? 

“Why did we come all the way here to bury bags of leaves?” Eren asks, awkwardly, uncomfortably. His ears hum and he can’t help but to focus on how _ sharp _the man looks... Sharp angles, his pitch-black hair moist with the surrounding mist. 

Levi stares down in the hole for what seems like minutes and Eren could’ve run for it about a hundred times by now. But he stays, reminds himself of his own delusions, reminds himself of the embrace shared in the hospital. 

Though his eyes are distant, the man smirks softly, more to himself than to Eren. 

“We’re not burying bags of leaves, Eren.” 

His heart skips a beat. His stomach turns at the possible meaning of Levi’s words. Either the man’s not burying the bags or the bags do not contain leaves. Which one is worse? Maybe he means both. Are they here to bury a dismembered body? Is Eren here so he will be an accomplice? Or was the entire raking of leaves just an act to get Eren to follow him to his own grave? 

Why... Why would he though? Why would Levi kill Eren? Other than their fight... Maybe the man is more insane than the boy himself? Maybe he’s hurt his pride with standing up against him. It happens, right? Eren’s heard stories before about men murdering their wives because their pride had been hurt, because they stood up against them, threatened to leave them. 

Eren’s hands fold into fists, he considers reaching out to touch him, hoping that they can reenact their warm, secure embrace from earlier this week. Maybe Eren can ground Levi and- 

“I’m not one to litter.” The man interrupts his thoughts and Eren holds his breath when Levi bends over, opens a bag between them. 

He expects a head to roll out, a foot to poke out, liters of blood to spray like a fountain between them. 

Yet, petals of oranges, yellows and browns are revealed and Eren watches, out of breath, as the man pours out the bag into the hole. 

“Oh...” Eren exhales, the hum in his ears settling for the distant chirping of birds and though still chilly, his stomach no longer feels like it has a freezing pit inside of it. 

“Give me a hand.” Levi demands as he goes for the second bag. Their eyes meet and Levi pauses, reads Eren for only a few seconds before he chuckles. 

“What? Did you think we were burying a body?” 

Not able to deny it in time, Eren just stays quiet, not knowing what to say, feeling ridiculous for even having considered the option. 

“Wild imagination.” The man mutters, raising his eyebrows momentarily as if impressed by the boy’s stupidity before he opens a trash bag and pours leaves into the hole. 

Eren follows his actions, opens a sack and finds himself holding his breath before exhaling in relief at its contents. When lifting the plastic, he finds it a lot lighter than it’d been before, as if even the weight –the ache in his arms- had been a delusion. 

“I’d do that alone.” Levi says after Eren’s poured out the last one and the boy stares at him dumbly. It’s a joke, right? Hard to tell with the man meeting his gaze with a dead-pan expression on his face. 

“I’m joking.” He clarifies, reaches out and gently nudges his shoulder with the tips of his fingers. 

“Please stop joking about morbid things.” Eren murmurs, glances away, blushes at the physical touch. His relief that there’s no cut off limbs allowing him to relax significantly. 

“Don’t you ever have morbid thoughts?” Levi asks him as he bends over to pick up the empty sacks. It’s a rhetorical question, perhaps something to keep the conversation going, as Levi had only just caught him suspecting him of disposing dismembered limbs. 

“I don’t joke about them.” Is the kid’s reply to this, forcing back the memory of the dream he’d had of Levi eating his face and how he’d been sexually aroused at it. Doesn’t get much more morbid than that. 

“You should. Takes off the edge.” It’s said in an oddly flirtatious tone and when looking at Levi it shows him leering at him from the corner of his eye, slyly, almost coyly. Is he coming on to him? No. Again, imagination. 

“Besides...” He adds as he turns to face the boy, starts to walk closer towards him, forces Eren to take a step backwards to avoid their chests from touching. 

“... The abnormal can be exciting.” 

“The abnormal.” Eren parrots, his mind isn’t functioning with their close proximity. All he focuses on besides the man’s words, is to keep his chin up; prevent any accidental kiss from taking place as Levi boldly tilts his head backwards to meet him face-on even with the difference in height. 

“Yeah, for example...” He steps forward, their chests touch and Eren backs up, fails to hide a gasp which he can tell Levi heard by how the man glances at his mouth momentarily. 

“How exciting it’d be to shove you into this make-shift grave.” 

“Wha-” 

Levi pushes him and the world flips as Eren tumbles backwards. Before realizing what had happened, the boy lands on the pile of petals they’d thrown in the hole in the ground. Trying to sit up is futile, the slick wetness of the leaves prevents him from finding a grasp and the more he moves the deeper he sags into the pile.   
Yet, finding that Levi just remains at the foot of the grave, head tilted as he observes him, as he finds the man to portray nothing but calm, nothing but curiosity, Eren stops struggling. 

Awkwardly he lays back onto the leaves, they’re cold in the nape of his neck, cling to his hair. 

Staring up at the sky above shows it being clear white, a tinge of gray at the corners, framed by bare branches. A flock of birds flutter by, as if apprehensive of Eren laid into shades of yellow and orange. 

“Doesn’t suit you.” His voice breaks through the silence between them and Eren isn’t sure if Levi’s addressing him or talking to himself. He sounds surprised, or thoughtful. 

“What, a grave?” Eren returns, almost mocking the man for being disappointed at his own actions. 

“Yeah.” He admits with a nod before rounding the hole and squatting down next to where the boy’s head is. 

“Come.” 

Observing the pale hand reached out towards him, Eren wonders why he feels calm. He wonders about how intensely he goes through emotions and yet they swap around so easily, so suddenly... Not unlike how Levi’s demeanor changes continuously. 

Perhaps, they’re not so different from one another. Perhaps they’re cut from the same wood. Just fifteen years apart. Perhaps he understands this man better than he thinks. 

Eren reaches up, clasps Levi’s hand into his own, tugs him down into the grave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out PastelGuts' beautiful artwork of the 'leaves scene' right [here](https://white-noise-addiction.tumblr.com/post/188995163561/ephemeral-is-a-wild-fanfic)!


	22. Humane Contrasts

Eren’s warm against him. 

Levi exhales slowly, forces his heartbeat to slow down as they lie shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm, hip to hip. The heat of him _ radiates _, contrasts with the cold wetness from the leaves underneath him. 

“Why’d you pull me down?” Levi asks after long moments spent in silence, staring up at the pale sky framed by pitch-black branches. 

The boy shrugs. 

“I’m tired of you running from me.” 

At this Levi frowns. Running from Eren? Him? It’s not that he avoids the boy –on the contrary, he’s with him more often than Eren knows- it's just that at times answers cannot be granted, reasons cannot be justified, cravings cannot be resisted if not for him removing himself physically from him. 

“If you miss me, you can just tell me.” The man jokes, lightens the subject, redirects it to avoid confrontation. 

Rather than stick to his guns like he should, Eren snorts, amused. The reaction comes too quickly, too loudly, as if Levi caught him red-handed, as if Levi hit the nail on the head. Ah, so he does miss him, does he? Unlikely, after what they went through... Yet, Eren believes that Levi’s the only one he has. 

“Levi...” His soft voice chimes after another few minutes spent in silence. 

Glancing at the young boy from the corner of his eye, Levi awaits whatever he will say. The hunger that controls him more often than not, today, stays low. Perhaps lying next to the boy, for now, is enough to keep him calm and collected. Though, merely twenty minutes earlier he’d grown aroused at watching Eren stumble backwards into this grave he’d dug.   
It’s not that he wants Eren dead, it’s just that it’s rather pleasurable to know he could kill him, he could even as little as hurt him. And there’s no way anyone would stop him. There’s an inappropriate amount of excitement to being aware that the only thing keeping Eren safe is Levi himself and yet the biggest danger to Eren, again, is Levi himself. 

Regardless of the teenager’s beauty as he lies within bright tints of orange and yellow, matching the hues of his skin and hair, he doesn’t befit death. It doesn’t suit him... and perhaps having shoved him into this grave just proves to him there’s more to Eren than just a grim future by Levi’s hands. 

None of this, however, takes away the mere fact that he still wants to bite a chunk of flesh from him, choke him with his hands and fuck his brains out. 

“Levi.” Eren repeats. 

“What?” 

The boy hesitates, Levi can feel his fingers twitch next to his own. If he were a tacky man, he’d hold his hand. 

“Remember the times you told me to bother you?” 

Of course, he does. Levi hums in acknowledgement. 

“What did you mean, exactly?” 

Ah, straight to the point, unlike Levi. 

It’s a good question, though an obnoxious one. Also, it’s something he should’ve expected, eventually. He can’t keep playing around with the boy without him starting to ask questions. Now, the query in all reality is; what’s he going to reply with? A lie or the truth? And, if the latter, does Levi even know? 

Pondering over this distracts him from Eren allowing his head to turn, gazing at Levi with intent. 

“What do _ you _think it means?” The man decides to return the question to the boy, if only to play it safe, if only to be certain he is not reading this kid wrong. Were it not for the fall of Eren’s sanity, he’d be a lot easier to read and predict. However, Levi’s found out that Eren’s as much all over the place as Levi is, just worse at controlling it, hiding it, realizing it in the moment it happens. Eren’s not aware of his own delusions whenever wrapped up inside of them. 

Levi can’t blame him. 

Though never hallucinating, Levi hardly remembers bludgeoning his brother with a sledge-hammer. He knows it happened, knows he hit him five to seven times, knows what Erwin’s face looked like in the aftermath; that is, not like a face at all, just pulp, chunks, shards in reds, yellows, blacks.   
Yet, the moment itself, his thoughts, his emotions, he hardly recalls. 

Levi had snapped. Quite unlike how he’d killed Jean which had been impulsive regarding the kidnapping, yet meticulous regarding the murder itself. 

It makes him wonder if he’d ever bring down a weapon to Eren’s face in a fit of rage. If he were to kill him... He couldn’t go for his face. Eren’s too beautiful for that, wouldn’t deserve destruction of the mind. 

Yet, as much as he adores his features, Levi still punches him straight in the nose when he goes to lean over him and bend down. 

Levi gasps, scrambles up from the pile of leaves, stares wide-eyed at Eren groaning across of him; cupping his nose and mouth with both hands. 

What just... What had just happened? 

Swiftly pulling himself out of the hole and getting up, Levi glances at the boy half buried in the leaves, still moaning in pain, frowning and trying to get out as well. Yet, Eren struggles, the pain in his face too grand to not apply pressure on it with a palm. Crawling out of a grave with one hand is quite the challenge.   
The wailing, the single hand reaching out, scrambling to find something to hold on to, remind Levi of when he’d buried Jean alive. He’d kicked him in the face at one point, and as a result he had acted similarly to how Eren is at this very moment, though far more dramatic as his life had been at its end. 

When the boy figures out he needs both hands, and hence places them on the edge of the pit, Levi grimaces at the blood that has smeared across his mouth. He wonders if the impact of his fist has hit some of his teeth as well. 

Eren climbs out, gets up and hastily makes his way down the hill they’d ascended. 

Well, he fucked up... And Levi isn’t sure who he’s addressing with this thought, the boy or himself. 

Levi watches the boy make his way back to the cabin, or so he assumes. Deciding to not follow him, the man lowers himself onto the dirt beneath, sits and stares at the pile of leaves they’d been lying in just minutes before. 

There’s no question about what had happened just now. It’d passed quickly, absolutely, but Levi replays it with ease, repeatedly. Eren had gone to kiss him. He’d leaned over Levi, had had the balls to try and take the first step to do something so disgusting, so vile, it makes Levi grow nauseas. 

Placing a hand on his stomach, Levi inhales, forces down the bile in his throat. He tells himself he’s reacting like this because a boy had tried to kiss him. He tells himself it’s justified, it’d been instinctive to punch him. 

But then as well there’s thoughts in his mind assuring him that the true horror of it all had been the loss of control, even if only for a split second. The audacity of a fifteen-year-old expecting his romantic feelings towards a thirty-year-old man to be reciprocated. The arrogance to go ahead and try to kiss him. The appalling selfishness of it all. 

Levi shoves away his earlier fantasies, ignores his own desires to touch Eren, denies the dreams about fucking him as well as all the times he’d jerked off to said dreams.   
It’s not him. He’s not a faggot. He’s not a pedophile either. He’s not ruled by his damn cock. 

Then what is he? A homophobic coward who rather murders people than face his own short-comings, his own doubts and fears? Is he just a man who kills what he is? He killed a gay kid because he’s gay? He killed his brother ‘Levi‘ because _ he _is Levi? 

What if Levi had taken the first step? Like he almost had done on the couch before Eren had had an allergic reaction to the medicine slipped in his drinks. Would he still have punched him? After all, as disgusted by almost having been kissed by Eren as he is, he’s crawled into bed with him countless of times before. He’s smelled him, nipped the skin of his nape, lapped at it as well. He watched Eren sleep, has seen him pleasure himself in bed and in the shower before, though the boy never seems to be able to find release, never reaches climax, always gives up halfway through. As if his demented mind removes the pleasure from every vessel of him. 

So what the fuck is it? 

Levi knows the answer. He pinches his nose as if the truth smells of rot, stares at the leaves, holds back the urge to heave. Yeah, he knows he’s projecting. As much as his outburst had been about despising himself for wanting to fool around with a boy, moreover it’d been about loss of control.   
The thought of being touched, kissed, fucked, loved, held... All of it scares him shitless. 

And when Levi’s frightened, he gets aggressive. When Levi’s insecure, he goes berserk. When Levi’s left alone... he grows obsessed. 

Erwin taking Eren –the only part of Carla that would ever have a chance of liking him such as Carla couldn’t- had frightened him. When Jean showed Eren a better time than Levi ever could, he’d grown insecure. When Levi had been left by his mother, he’d grown obsessed with Erwin. When Erwin had gotten his own life –girlfriends and studies keeping him away from him- Levi had met Carla. When Carla had grown pregnant and disinterested in him, Levi had found Eren. 

A circle. A circle starting with Levi, ending with Eren, and right back around. 

Undesired as he is, Levi needs this boy around him. Even if the kid almost did something as outrageous as kiss him, Eren needs to stay with him. Needs to. Levi can’t be alone again, can’t be tossed aside again. He’ll explode, he has no new obsession to replace Eren with. So what would he do if left behind? 

Go mad, that’s what. 

Madder than he already is. 

Clenching his jaws, Levi’s teeth hurt. He wants to slide back into the grave, bury his face into the leaves and find Eren’s scent buried within. 

He wants to indulge in something he craves but can’t have because of himself. It’s clear now, obvious, that Eren wants him. And to a degree, the sentiment is returned. Yet, something in his chest stops him from relaxing into the idea of being intimate with the boy. Levi doesn’t want to be intimate with him, doesn’t want to be romantically involved with him either, he wants to consume him. Simple as that. 

Nothing Levi wants or gets is ever normal. 

Not after what he’s been through. Not with a mind as twisted as his. He’d rather wring Eren’s neck than be vulnerable with him in bed. 

Exhaling shakily, Levi throws his legs over the edge, slides back into the grave, lays down on the leaves and stares at the pale sky above him.   
Eren’s scent cradles him, keeps him there for hours. 

* * *

Their red Mustang is parked around the corner of the diner. 

Levi has to inhale a few times before finding it within himself to exit his own vehicle. He glances over his shoulder, left, then right. Though in the middle of the desert, next to a road that might see five cars cross it a day, he is still apprehensive of being spotted. 

It’s been a year since he killed Erwin. A year of laying low and at last, today, after months of deliberating, he’ll see her again. 

A windchime above the door clinks pleasantly when he enters the empty diner. An older woman barely greets him as she wipes some tables to his left, cigarette dangling from her thin lips. When glancing to his right, however, Levi’s heart stops beating for a solid few seconds. His stomach flutters at seeing her. 

Her skin is paler than he remembers, her hair darker, longer, yet her youth has maintained as has her beauty. 

When walking towards her table, hidden in the farthest corner, she catches the sound of his boots, looks at him, even goes as far as to get up.   
Levi holds back a sigh of relief when they fall into an embrace. 

“It’s so good to see you, Erwin, or-” Carla hesitates, holds him at arm’s length. 

“Levi’s fine.” The young man mutters, glances down. A part of him, the Erwin part of him, has died along with his brother. Done with the fake name, the fake _ him _. Besides... as far as he knows, Levi Ackerman remains the name on Carla and Grisha’s will regarding Eren’s future were something to happen to them. A fact shared with him by Carla. A fact that allows him to nestle himself in his own identity at last. Accepted by her. Accepted as Levi. Not Erwin. 

“Come sit down.” She smiles at him and it’s incredibly gentle. She’s softer than she had been in the past and Levi wonders if getting Erwin out of the picture helped along with this. If this perhaps opened her eyes to Levi, rather than have her distracted by the ‘better’ one. 

Glancing at the green-eyed child sitting at the table, as he lowers himself on a chair, Levi’s amused at how the boy rather aggressively smashes two toy-cars together while making sputtering sounds. He’s never liked kids, especially around the toddler age Eren’s at, yet something about his unruly hair and feminine features contrasting the wild and graceful, intrigues Levi. Enough so to crack a smile.   
It as well helps to know he’s Carla’s; connected by flesh and blood. He’s a piece of her, will be until the day he decays. 

Throughout the following hour spent with them, Levi finds his focus to keep being drawn to Eren who appears equally curious and taken by him, a returned sentiment. Though Carla remains the same as he remembers her, the boy, apparently, isn’t as sugar-sweet as he looks.   
It’s shared with Levi that he suffers from night-terrors, that he sleep-walks, speaks to imaginary friends and tends to break all of his toys. There’s aggression in him which, if the absolute lack of trauma in his life is to be believed, baffles doctors as much as Carla and Grisha. 

Levi asks himself if his own mother had survived birthing him, if she’d have visited doctors with him as well. If she’d have sought out help for her little boy as eagerly as Carla seems to do.   
Or, if Levi would’ve been normal were she to have survived. A question that’ll remain unanswered for the remainder of his life. 

Listening closely to Carla talking about Eren only serves in making him grow more curious, hungrier for information, for an identity to pick apart –disassemble, if you will- and perhaps put back together to fit a closer image to the mother.   
He’d despised him as a baby. Remembers clearly how upset he’d been when Carla had announced her pregnancy. 

But that was before... Before the world collapsed. Before Erwin had seeped from the picture. Before the idea trickled into Levi’s mind. That is, the idea –the fact- that a new and kneadable version of Carla could become his entirely. 

The greatest piece of information shared with Levi that Sunday afternoon is that Carla was aware of his real name from pretty much the beginning. True to her ways, she hadn’t felt shame in glancing at Erwin’s ID left carelessly on the kitchen table when she’d visited.   
Levi considers for a moment that this might mean he’d murdered his brother for nothing... Yet, he’d stolen the stage countless of times from Levi. He’d neglected him for girls he’d meet on a night out. Levi had even heard him talk negatively about him to their father.   
Erwin wasn’t a saint. Erwin had betrayed him just by allowing Carla to write down his fake name, even if she’d been aware of their identities... Erwin had not found out about her knowing this. 

It’s a messy way in which he has to justify his actions. But his morals have been questionable since he’d been a child himself, his empathy underdeveloped and, in that moment, a year ago, it’d been the right thing to do. 

The end justifies the means. Always. 

No regrets. Never. 

She never explains properly as to why she’d picked Levi, in secret, to care for Eren were anything to happen to Grisha and her. Levi listens carefully to the lilts in her voice, the intonation carrying her words, the shifting of her eyes and curling of her lips, yet he can’t quite read her properly.   
‘I believe in the good in people.’, ‘I see more in you than meets the eye.’, ‘You care so much about me that I’m convinced you would love Eren.’. 

Carla had never struck Levi as naïve. She’s meticulous underneath the image of her happy and confident ways. Yet, she sees more good in Levi than there is. Yet, she fails to spot the flaws, the danger, the obsession. 

Regardless. Levi’s walked through life with the devil on both of his shoulders and hence it’s whispered to him to just go with it. Allow the stupidity from her side and revel in the future it could shape for him. His paranoia lays low, dampened by his adoration for her, his interest for Eren. 

Who’s the naïve one? 

That night he dreams of two pairs of eyes. Different in color though similar in shape. Yet, the green pair overflows in its intensity, unlike the gentle touch to the brown one. His interest wavers, shifts, swaps. 

In the following years Levi, Carla and Eren manage to meet up anonymously every six-or-so months and never, not once, does she ask him what happened to his father and brother. Not once does she ask him where he lives, what he’s doing, why he’s so careful with meeting them.   
She has to know... And yet even as she does... 

At thirteen, Eren sets Grisha on fire. At fifteen Eren’s dumped at Levi’s; found incapable of living alongside with as he’s grown out of control, beyond fucked up, violent and rotten. 

Seemingly, the only solution is to dump him with a murderer. 

* * *

The kid’s nose doesn’t look too bad. It’s a tad swollen, a cut on the bridge. His lower-lip had been snagged by a tooth, which had been the accomplice for the amount of blood that had poured out after Levi had punched him.   
The most painful thing about his face is how wary those emerald eyes are whenever Levi goes near him. And that’s a worrisome thing... That Levi finds it painful to witness the newfound distrust and fear within Eren. 

It’s not that he feels bad for Eren however. It’s just that his own agenda has been messed about by his own impulsive act. He’d been so close to getting this boy, to consuming him, taking him and keeping him. Yet, he’d gone ahead and thrown a fist into his pretty face. That pretty face he’d hate to see damaged. 

Licking his lips, Levi wonders how much of his own reasonings are excuses and how many of them are truths. Does he feel for Eren, or is he upset over personal gain? He’s not quite sure.   
Certainly, his mind tells him one thing, yet there’s a tightness within his chest –similar to the hunger in his stomach that is impossible to satiate- that makes him start to doubt himself and whatever it is he wants from the kid. 

“Don’t you want to eat?” Levi asks, leans against the doorpost of his bedroom, watches the boy lying curled up atop the sheets on his bed. Eren refuses to meet his gaze, stares at the closet of which the door is ajar.   
Levi wonders if Eren’s ever going to figure out that it’s he himself who opens it at night before crawling back into bed. The kid’s his own worst enemy, it seems, or his own monster at the least. 

As expected, no reply comes. It’s been going on like this for two days now. Two days of being ignored, of Eren not eating, only drinking from the tap in the bathroom. Which means that for two days now, the boy hasn’t taken his medicine which Levi hides within his food and drinks. It’s a tad worrisome... His delusions –or lack therefore- had been improving lately after Levi had had to swap medication dozens of times to see which one works well for him. 

Now that the drugs are getting out of his system, he’s restless, he’s not sleeping throughout the night, he’s on edge. He’s growing distant and Levi knows that soon enough he’ll be perceived as the devil himself once again. 

It has to be avoided... They’d come so close to... To whatever Levi’s goal is. 

He should’ve let this kid kiss him. Should’ve just powered through it for only a few seconds before burying him in the leaves, fuck him right there in that grave, with the scent of petrichor and the sound of Eren's moans as their only companions. 

The man shivers at the thought before placing down the plate of food on a nearby chair. Medicine’s been squashed within the mashed potatoes, but he already knows Eren won’t eat it. 

It makes him consider if the boy knows... After all, Levi’d been drugging him heavily for a while now. Surely he’s felt the effects and figured it out by now. Even though he’d never mentioned it to Levi, perhaps Eren’s decided for himself that he no longer wants to accept drugs being fed to him.   
Then again, does he know that –aside from sleeping medication- nothing unnecessary has been fed to him? 

It’s very likely Eren believes Levi’s drugging him for personal gain. Granted, Levi’s indulged in the capability of crawling in bed with him for entire nights... Yet his intentions are... Not pure, but not harmful either. Right? 

It’s treatment. 


	23. Directionless Plays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for leaving comments. Please keep them coming, it motivates me incredibly much.
> 
> More Levi POV!  
Enjoy :)

Levi figures out three days after their fight, that Eren does find some nutrition.

Glaring inside the jar of peanut-butter he’s holding, Levi knows –one hundred percent- that it’d been as good as full just days ago. He rarely indulges on the treat, but his memory is clear, knows he’s only spooned out an amount twice with a butter knife exactly one day prior to the incident.

“Well, well...” He murmurs lowly before placing down the jar and lowering himself onto the backs of his heels. Levi retreats the hidden stash of medication taped against the bottom of the sink inside the cabinet beneath.   
After mixing a few of the pills in the jar, he places it back in the overhead shelve, feeling a lot better knowing Eren will pick up his treatment soon.

Sure enough, late into that same night, as Levi camps out in the hallway, he watches Eren take a seat on one of the kitchen counters, spooning peanut-butter straight from the jar into his mouth.   
Snarling at the thought of having this kid’s spit in his food, Levi makes a mental note to never consume the creamy treat again. To have Eren’s fluids tainted by food is as revolting as it’s regretful.

In this moment, as the boy sways his bare legs, holds the spoon in his mouth as he stares out in front of him –likely pondering over this and that-, with the bruise on his nose and the cowlicks in his hair, Levi experiences a peculiar emotion.

His eyes widen, lips parting at the intensity of it all. A heat crawls into his chest, a warmth unlike the arousal he often experiences when witnessing this kid’s long, bronze legs. Something about Eren... Something about how calm he appears to be, how alone he is in the dark kitchen with only the yellow glow of the refrigerator left open to illuminate one half of him. Or is it the humming?

Eren’s humming.

Eren never hums.

Levi’s eyes narrow as he squints them. The sensation he’d almost mistaken for empathy or perhaps fondness reveals itself as that of suspicion.  _ Paranoia _ . An ugly emotion that’s no stranger to Levi whatsoever, but has gotten him in trouble regardless of him recognizing it within minutes after it perks up inside of him.

Planning to press down on its ugly head, drown it back into the pit inside that’s filled to the brim with self-indulging fantasies about this boy, Levi is forced the leave it alone. Moreover, the situation urges him to embrace the suspicion.

“I know you’re there.”

Eren says it in such an aloof manner that Levi can’t decide whether or not he’s bluffing. Incapable of stopping himself from taking a step backwards, hiding deeper in the pitch-black hallway, Levi awaits quietly to find out if the kid’s just playing a guessing game.   
There’s no way he can see him, there’s no way he caught Levi in the kitchen earlier either as that had been hours ago, it’d not make sense to expect this man to still be here after the time that’s passed. Eren would never suspect Levi of staying in this hallway for four hours, would he?

Screwing the lid back onto the jar, Eren tosses his spoon into the sink and places the peanut-butter back in the overhead cabinet. Levi watches, tense, how Eren places his hands on the counter behind him, leans against it before crossing his legs and staring right into the hallway.   
He can’t see him... It shows in how his eyes don’t quite meet Levi’s... But he’s close, just a little more down and to the left and he’d be looking straight at the man. 

Levi exhales.

“You like watching me.” Eren states –doesn't ask- and Levi’s skin crawls at the prospect of Eren figuring him out. It’s no fun when all is revealed... Not to mention, he still hasn’t come to terms with his own vile desires when it comes to Eren... Having this boy figure it all out before even Levi can accept it would be horrendous.

“You like being close to me, don’t you?” 

A bold statement. It sparks something in Levi’s chest, it conjures up a stinging pit which sinks into his stomach heavily; sickening him. His lips pull into a grimace, even his nose curls up at the disgust he experiences  at  hearing this statement.

“I bet you wanted me to...” Eren continues, lifts his chin in a sign of confidence... Arrogance. Looking down at Levi.

Levi's hands fold into fists and willpower is collected to not storm into the kitchen and slap a hand across the teenager’s mouth. He’s aware of what he means, knows he is addressing the incident, knows he’s hinting at a kiss that could’ve happened.

“But you’re scared.” Is his whisper and it’s only when Eren’s eyes find his, that Levi realizes he’s stepped out of the dark hallway into the barely-lit  kitchen. Shadows linger between them, as if desperate to hold them back; separate them with a barrier of morbidity.

Pride is damaged and from past experiences, Levi’s aware of the danger this brings along. Eren, on the other hand, foolishly continues, hasn’t a clue as to what the man is capable of. Hasn’t a clue of how well Levi can hide rage even when it boils his skin beneath  the  surface.

Despising arrogance, loathing dominance, Eren’s charade only reminds Levi of all that is ugly in this world. Like a mirror he watches this boy mock him, demean him, read him... The audacity. The balls on this piece of shit.

“You’re a coward.” Eren hisses, yet his lips don’t move and it takes only a few moments for Levi to figure out his own mind is taunting him. It’s similar to whathe’d heard while following Erwin into the garage. His thoughts had whispered justifications into his ear, their voices –though sharp and vicious- mimicked Erwin’s. It’s not that he’s delusional, he can tell the difference between reality and thoughts.   
It’s just that every word spoken to him from within his skull rings true, matches up to what he’d suspect the perpetrator to say about him behind his back.

Paranoid, sure. Not delusional. Not insane like this kid. This kid who’d set his own father on fire. This boy who would a ttack  his mother while sleepwalking. This child who was born a demon and remained one even through therapy and medication.

And Levi’s tried.

These past months. And even before.   
The only glimmer of hope; as of late as the new medication seems to be received well by his body.

Still.  If it weren’t for his beauty, if it weren’t for how Levi relates to how unhinged he is, he’d be dead by now.

“I could  hurt  you.”

He’s said it before he c an  filter the words in his head. They spilled out in a snarl while his hands itch in their anticipation to wrap around the kid’s slender neck.

Eren blinks, emerald eyes shaped like Carla’s; big and contain ing far more intelligence than one would suspect. This boy, though lacking the ability to fake his happiness like his mother can, possesses the same intensity. There’s fight within him.  _ Potential _ .

If only he weren’t  so  screwed up.

Levi scoffs, can’t help but have his face crack into a grin as he begins to chuckle.

This boy... With his big mouth... Staring at him ; pale, frightened, regretful. Yeah, that soothes the man. That’s all he needs to know; that just four threatening words can subdue him back into submission; making room for Levi to take back his spot as the arrogant one, the confident one. The one in control, the one leading this show they’re both starring in.

Eren’s granted a lead-role next to Levi after all, he should be grateful rather than taunt him. He should kiss Levi’s feet rather than try to steal the spotlight and write their script.

Only Levi does the writing. Only Levi directs. Only Levi would ever kiss Eren, not the other way around.

Levi pats Eren’s cheek as he stands in front of him, holds his gaze until the boy finally blinks away, goes as far as to mumble a ‘sorry’.

“That’s quite alright.” Levi blandly states. It’s a lie, a big one at that. He doesn’t appreciate Eren’s attempt at dominating him. Arrogance and confidence never fail to piss him off, makes Levi feel like he’s being belittled, humiliated. Makes him feel weak and out of control, insecure.

Like he’s nothing, like no one gives a shit about him.

“I’m sorry I punched you.” Levi adds and he isn’t sure whether the words spoken by himself are truthful or not. It’s the thought that counts however, the sentiment... Not so much does he regret punching Eren as he does that it had had to come to that. Eren deserved it, yet it’s sad that he pushed Levi that far that easily.   
Eren’s to blame, even if unaware of Levi’s own messed-up reasoning to assault him... Even if there’s no way he could’ve known, he still shouldn’t have gone in for a kiss. That in and on itself is just plain wrong, unacceptable.

“That’s quite alright.” Eren returns Levi’s words, coyly gazes at him from the corner of his eye and Levi doesn’t know whether he should get annoyed at the word-play, amused at the joke or disgusted at the flirtatious look.   
Optioning on frowning, Levi wonders why the boy once more seems to pull a move on him. Has he not learned? Is Levi reading him wrong?

Tilting his head sideways, the man observes him... Reads into how he leans back against the counter; hands behind him, chest and throat revealed –offering his vitals, displaying vulnerability together with undoubtedly-fake trust-.   
Where did the fear go? Where did that deer-in-headlights-look from two minutes ago go?

It strikes him as peculiar that the side-eye move being pulled on him is rather familiar and it takes him a solid few seconds to recognize it as his own creepy way of trying to lure the boy in. Levi had done almost the same thing when they’d stood at the make-shift grave filled nearly to the brim with leaves.   
Now, the shivers crawling up his spine however, he’s not certain if caused by distaste or suspicion.

Considering momentarily if the boy has a weapon behind his back, causes the man to take a step back and it surprised the both of them. Levi’s not one to step down from a challenge. Though sly and secretive, Levi is anything but a coward in the physical sense, meaning that he’ll knock someone out twice his size without an ounce of fear trembling through his bones –had done so in the past, after all-. Yet, emotionally it’s a whole different story. Emotionally he avoids, he denies, he runs.

So, did he step back because of the boy’s flirtatious behavior or because of the possibility that the kid might be holding a knife behind his back? The latter, after all, wouldn’t make sense when considering how eager the man is to wrestle this kid to the ground at all times.

Raising his chin, Levi bites back a smirk, gazes at him smugly, dares him to make a move; a violent one, not one like he’d done before.

His heart pounds fast and his palms grow clammy, his mouth waters and his stomach flutter... He’s excited. Incredibly excited.

“What do you want this time?” Is the man’s question.

Eren faces him once again, blinks dumbly to translate the words spoken to him before his full brows furrow.

“You should ask yourself that.” Is the teenager’s witty comeback. 

Clacking his tongue once and reveling in how Eren flinches at the loud sound, Levi considers a reply.

“Why don’t you ask me, then?”

“I’ve asked you this before.” The boy mutters, trying to act petulant though Levi can smell the sweat on him, can feel the nervous energy radiating off of him tingle the tips of his fingers; beckoning him to reach out and touch him, comfort him and then devour him when he least suspects it.

Levi’s stomach growls.

“In real life?” Personally, Levi finds it a good question to ask this kid as his memory is so  poor he won’t even remember banging his face against a bathroom stall door or let alone, setting his parent ablaze. 

Though he goes to reply to Levi, the boy ends up shutting his mouth so quickly his teeth clack. It’s an attractive sound, Levi finds, as he observes the kid stare at the space left between both their pairs of feet.

The man toes him; leather shoe against bare toes.

Would he enjoy being stepped on? Would he moan were Levi to force him to the ground and plant a knee between his shoulder-blades? He seems like he would, but then again, Levi’s no stranger to his own wishful thinking.

“So, what is it?” Are Eren’s next whispered words as they both stare down at their feet.   
Though the tip of Levi’s shoe rests lightly atop the very ends of Eren’s toes, the boy doesn’t pull away his foot.   
It’s a ridiculous display of either arrogance or receptiveness. Levi almost laughs at their lack of communicational skills. It could take years before they’d figure one another out entirely, regardless of Levi having the upper-hand since he’s not a delusional mess.

“Hm?” Levi hums as a response, knowing very well what the adolescent is meaning to say, yet wants to stretch out this moment between them in the dark, quiet kitchen.

“What do you want from me?”

It’s a question Levi can’t answer because not only does he not desire showing his hand, but as well because he’s not sure what cards he’s holding and how they match up together. It’s uncertain if he’ll end up winning or not and Levi doesn’t play to lose. He’s a winner, even if needing to cheat.

Hence, he lies.

Partially.

“I want us to move forward.” True because he wants this to evolve into something more fulfilling. Levi might enjoy the hunt, yet he’s getting ridiculously hungry and he needs something, _anything_. Deceptive because he doesn’t want Eren to get too healthy, doesn’t want to move to a point where he’ll figure out the past, the truth, which would only result in him leaving Levi.   
Levi doesn’t let anyone leave him. When intrigued, taken by another human being, Levi clings. After all, he either dislikes or grows obsessively fond over a person. There’s no in between and thus, when finding a creature that pleases him, he can not give up on it. He needs all of them.

Unless a trade is made.

Such as Eren, for Carla.

Perhaps if Eren had been Erwin’s son, he would’ve never killed his brother. Though the fascination with Carla had been far from the obsession with Erwin. And the fascination with Eren, though more intense, is rather similar to the what he’d experienced regarding the kid’s mother.

“In what sense?” 

A rather logical question to be asked by such an irrational kid as Eren himself. It makes the man wonder how aware the boy really is, if he’s putting up an act such as Levi is. Highly unlikely however, as Levi can tell the difference in someone’s eyes when it comes to feigned or genuine distress.   
Eren doesn’t show many signs of deceit... Perhaps he forgets he’s lying the moment his lips part.

“It can’t be romantically.”

Levi’s heart skips several beats and his brain seems to short-circuit momentarily as Eren throws the word out in the open. There it is; another act thrown between them on the floor, ready to be shoved underneath a carpet or otherwise dissected and inspected. Levi prefers the prior, though can tell by the kid’s wide eyes that the desire isn’t mutual.

Pulling away his foot and taking a step back, Levi stares at the boy, tense, suspicious. What’s this kid’s agenda? Where did he get the balls from? Is the treatment going so well his old personality is showing through? After all, Eren had been  a  feisty kid once, obnoxiously so.

Regardless of Levi enjoying the fight and stubbornness within Eren, he despises arrogance and dominance. He still wants this kid on a leash, still wants to be the one who will pull it taunt or allow it to hang loosely between them. He wants to steer him, for however long he might be entertaining to Levi.

Eren  can not and will not have a say in their future spent together.

“You’re very confusing, Levi.”

The way he pronounces his name if reminiscent of better times, calmer ones, before Levi’s mind felt like a floating storm; as chaotic as it’s vague.

“You want to be in charge of everything yet you’re too scared to take that first step.”

Though not quite as bad as being labeled a ‘coward’, the hairs on the back of Levi’s neck still rise at getting accused of being too scared to do what he wants. The truth hurts...

Levi grins lightly at his own insult.

“I take what I want, when I want.” Levi utterly lies, knows it yet denies it to himself in the same breath.

“That’s what I believed as well, before what happened.” Eren admits before he prods his own nose, clearly hinting at the punch that’d been thrown at him.

“So, do it then.” Eren adds, lures Levi...

With narrowed eyes, he regards the young boy, wonders if he’s a siren sent from the pits of hell to surface and make sure that Levi breaks his own character, acts upon what is perceived as disgusting and abnormal.   
Pressing his lips together tightly, as if his body rejects the idea of having them touched by another man’s, Levi takes another step back.

“It’s not what I want.” His voice is hoarse, betrays the uncertainty whirling within him, hidden behind the mask of a man bored.

As if relieved, Eren exhales slowly, his shoulders relax and it makes Levi reconsider if they’d been talking about the same thing. Had they been addressing a kiss or Levi’s sexual desire to rip Eren apart ?

Sexual.

Not romantic.

And not necessarily homosexual in kind either.

Just a raw ache fueled by his own twisted idea of what is arousing to him. Perhaps,  in the end , it isn’t at all the boy’s gender that attracts him but everything else about him. It’s a comfortable assumption to consider, if managing to ignore the fantasies he’s had of going down on him.

Curling up his nose as he can’t help but glance down at the boy’s crotch, Levi awaits the teenager to say yet another witty thing. He seems to be in his element tonight, clear-minded, logical, sensical.   
The treatment is going well, a tad too well though.

The thought of being unmasked by this boy is unnerving, yet unavoidable if he wants him to be close to healthy, to ‘normal’. Eren needs his mind back, a part of it, just enough for Levi to be perceived as the hero, the savior. Just enough for Eren to not go anywhere, to need Levi, crave him, view him as his own place of sanity.

The balance of being perceived either as a man or a devil is a tricky one to achieve. Trickier than he’d believed.

“Fine.” Eren huffs, pushes off the counter and goes to pass by Levi to go back up the stairs.

Yet, on instinct rather than logic, Levi lifts his arm, has it impact with the kid’s chest to stop him in his tracks.

It’s audible, how the boy’s breath hitches. It’s apparent how the silence between them is only broken by the buzz of the refrigerator behind Eren, still left open.

Levi glances up at him, leers at him from the corner of his eye, lowers his arm. The rustling of his sleeve is loud within the atmosphere.

“Close the fridge.” Levi whispers, doesn’t move an inch even though Eren’s proximity makes his skin crawl. His mind snarls at himself to move away, yet every muscle in his body trembles in excitement, in the arousal of knowing he can take him. Nothing can stop Levi but himself.

Nothing.

Eren nods, his body tense and when he turns around, it happens stiffly, slowly.

Observing the nape of his neck, imagining how much blood would flow if ripping out just a little piece of him, Levi hums low... A mere rasp.   
The sound causes Eren to pause momentarily, and though his shoulders are pulled up –betraying how uncomfortable he is with having Levi behind him this close- he still goes ahead and closes the refrigerator.

Darkness swallows them both.

Levi’s eyes adjust easily in the dark, as if it comes with the stalker-behavior he’s so fond of.

For Eren, however, it takes a moment. When the boy does eventually pass Levi by, their shoulders brush and Levi inhales his scent, makes sure the kid hears it.   
Exhaling in a sigh, feeling himself swell in his pants at the boy’s warm smell, Levi peeks over his shoulder.

Hidden in the dark, he allows himself to grin when finding Eren looking back at him before ascending the staircase.

Levi’s back on stage, has written the script once again. Directed their play and ended up victorious.   
Everything’s under control.

Once more, he rules their storyline.


	24. Mirrored Selves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters are finished and it's PLOT PLOT PLOT.  
Can't wait to upload the next one :o

The impact had been  exhilarating .

Prodding his nose, Eren inspects the damage in the mirror’s reflection. He angles his head every which way even though he’s memorized each bump, scratch and bruise. It’s been a few days, the discoloration beneath his skin creating shadows that befit how ill he feels.   
Yet, the memory of their kiss, pulls him through.

Kiss.

An odd label to define what had happened. That is, a fist to Eren’s nose. However, when considering how far apart they have been in the past, this was undoubtedly the most intimate moment shared between them. 

Sickly pleased with the raw emotion Levi had been incapable of containing within his own morbid prison, Eren finds himself smiling at his reflection.   
Levi isn’t uncrackable, after all. There’s emotion, there’s insecurity, there’s aggression.

A shiver runs up the boy’s spine and though it shakes the smile  off  his face, the boy soothes himself with the thought that this attraction to danger must come hand-in-hand with his delusions which have resurfaced as of recently. It’s as close as he can get to a justification, to an excuse that allows him to revel in the arousal for an atmosphere that should draw fear rather than anything else.

It’s all in his head,  in the end .

Taking a shaky breath, Eren’s knees buckle at standing up for nearly an hour as he’d showered and stared at his reflection for the majority of his morning. He’s weak, hasn’t eaten anything but for the few spoons of peanut butter stolen from the jar in the kitchen at late night hours.   
Each time he does, he knows Levi’s watching him from the hallway, from atop the staircase, from around the corner. Eren can smell him, intoxicated and familiar with the hint of his aftershave. Can see his eyes glint in the shadows, can feel the sharpness of his angles protrude his skull, penetrate his brain, mangle his conscience.

And when he’d confronted the man... When he’d summoned him like a demon from the pitch-black  hole he’d hidden in... It’d been as much of an exciting as a terrifying experience.

A shaky exhale accompanies him before he finds the courage to let go of the sink he’d been leaning on. Turning around to the door, Eren halts. The door’s ajar.   
It’s starting all over again.

“Levi?” Eren calls out, places fingers atop the doorknob, stares out into the black of the hallway outside. There’s no slivers of perfume curling into his nostrils. No eyes leer at him.   
He assumes.

Opening the door, Eren stumbles out of the bathroom, curses at how dizzy he feels.

It’s only when halfway into his bedroom that he recalls having seen something in the corner of his eye. He expects to see nothing when turning around to regard whatever he’d caught hidden behind the door.  Naturally , catching glimpses of figures, flashes of shadows, isn’t an unfamiliar occurrence.

The opposite –that is; spotting creatures head-on- isn't as unfamiliar to Eren either. Yet, the jet-black, grinning and hunched devil is still a jarring image to witness.   
Eren never quite gets used to this one... Perhaps because it’s the only one that radiates animosity. It’s the only one of which Eren is convinced has ulterior motives. The only one that gets closer over time.

“What do you want?” Eren asks it, his lungs barely managing to press out air to give him a voice as his entire body –organs included- seemed to have frozen.

Its rounded eyes, glinting white, blink once, though the lids don’t quite match up in their pace. Eren’s heart skips a beat when it pushes its weight off the wall it’s plastered against.   
The act of the muscle in his chest seems to carry over to the devil as it pauses instantly; awaits for it to beat again.

And  when  it does, it moves once; one quick step. 

Eren watches, holds his breath, at the skinny demon standing still with one leg lifted, elbows spread out as its hands reach forward. It’s still, body balanced, unmoving as much as the grin on its face. 

This time around, when Eren’s heart picks up another beat, the devil doesn’t move. 

Seconds pass, turn into minutes during which Eren is left to stare at the creature across the room; gazing at him, paused mid-step, grinning, unblinking.

Did his hallucination freeze? Did his own mind  short-circuit ? Did his delusion run out of imagination or fuel?

It takes the boy various minutes before he finds the courage in himself to glance away from the creature. The room is dark, corners hidden in shadows, the only glow coming from the night-lamp behind him and it’s only then that the boy reminds himself this isn’t possible.   
He’d just showered, his skin smells of soap, his hair is still wet. It’d been morning. He’d woken up only a few hours ago... His room had been completely lit by the sun.

Yet... now...

Peeking over his shoulder at the window shows a pitch-black outside, no moonlight, no tree branches ticking at his window. Just black. Just a jet shade swallowing most of his room with it; walls disappearing, ceiling void, only dark floorboards underneath his feet which he can feel beneath his toes... Yet, can’t see when looking down.

Looking up shows the devil as it’d been standing plenty of minutes ago, it hasn’t moved an inch.

The rush in his ears that had been present for days sinks away and Eren’s left only hearing his own heartbeat, his own breathing in a hollow tone, as if his ears are clogged. The shadows around him disguised as water, stinging his eyes, constricting his airways.

The boy gulps, takes a step forward towards the devil which as well has been embraced by the black around them to the point where only its face, shoulders and hands protrude.

Eren stares at it, waits for it to blink, twitch, breathe... Yet nothing happens and all the boy can do is go closer. Though feeling the boards creak under his feet, the sound never reaches his ears, the lack of sound serving to disorientate him to the point where he nearly trips forward into the creature’s spread and outreached arms.

His vision trembles, shudders, as he comes to a halt in front of it... It’s hunched, its body appearing as if ready to pounce, creeping. Its white eyes are directed at Eren’s chest and inhaling deeply, the boy waits for anything to break.

When nothing occurs, when his eyes keep shaking, his heart keeps pounding and his stomach continues to flutter, Eren leans over slightly. He inspects the devil’s face, takes the opportunity to inspect it... Tries to find a resemblance... A resemblance to Levi. To Erwin. 

Up close, not a sound from it is witnessed and Eren’s convinced it’s not even breathing. It’s quite literally frozen into space and time; the skin on its bony hand ice-cold.   
Letting the fingers he’d placed on its hand slide off, Eren instead reaches out towards its face. He hesitates once, thinks he sees the lips around white teeth twitch... Yet, it doesn’t snarl, it doesn’t surge forward, it doesn’t blink up at him.

Imagined.

Its face is cold, slick, its skin tight atop its skull as if there’s not enough of it to stretch across. Eren observes the black creature closely, finds himself amazed at its long eyelashes, at the pores in its skin, at the thickness of its eyebrows hidden as they’re as dark as the rest of it.   
Its hair is slicked back, yet curls at the neck, the length of it reaching the top knob of its spine, Eren can tell as he lets his fingers travel from jaw, to neck, to nape.

“You don’t look like him...” Eren murmurs as the sound of his heartbeat dissipates. His ears ring as he observes the lack of sharp angles, instead faced by softer edges.   
Up close, the devil’s nose isn’t quite as thin as Levi’s, it’s face more oval than square, its cheeks fuller, its eyes –though absurdly rounded- almond shaped at the edges.

“You’re not him.” The boy frowns when leaning closer to its face, placing both of his hands on its ears, cupping the head lightly.   
The devil isn’t Levi... Yet, it looks incredibly familiar, a face Eren’s seen more than hundreds of thousands of times.

Though the answer is on the tip of his tongue, ready to topple out and answer the mystery, Eren’s distracted by something warm dripping onto his left foot.

He glances down... Sees the shimmer of a single, bead of clear liquid atop his skin. Another drop falls down, splatters, the sound of it ridiculously loud in the silence surrounding them.

Glancing back in front of him at the face a mere inch away from his own, Eren finds the devil unmoved, yet glistening saliva drips from between sharp teeth, over its chin, down its throat.

“What is-”

It moves.

Eren screams only to find his voice overpowered by the spine-shattering screech that escapes the devil’s opened mouth as it climbs atop of him.   
Wrestled to the floor, Eren vaguely notices how the impact of hitting the boards shakes his room into sunlight for a split second before the dark returns and the devil’s weight presses down on his chest.

“You’re not him!” Eren shouts at it, sways his arms around yet incapable of hitting it. It avoids his limbs with ease,  sits on his chest,  wraps both hands around Eren’s throat; lifts  his he a d a nd slams  it back down hard enough to  make it feel as if his brain splatters across the floor.

It repeats the action.

Over and over and over again.

With each slam, his delusion shakes; shows Eren reality.

With each impact against the back of his skull, his hallucination shifts, shows Eren the truth.

With each stab of pain, Eren witnesses a sunlit room, is shown the closed closet, emptiness underneath the bed to his right.

Moreover, Eren watches with intent, the identity of his assaulter reveal itself as his delusions are  beaten  out of him.

The creature atop of him is snarling, no more grin, no more white eyes. Just a face, distorted with rage, infuriated, dark green eyes and unruly chestnut hair. Tanned skin, bruised nose and busted lip.

“Stop...” Eren wheezes. Reaches up, touches his own face, feels his own fingers touch his own face in an absurd twist of sanity.

“Eren, stop...” He pleads himself. Watches himself atop of him, feels himself killing him.

It’s Eren.

The bad guy.

It was him... These monsters in his brain; all him.

Levi’s the scapegoat.

Eren’s the monster.

“Stop...” Eren wheezes.

It doesn’t.

* * *

The world is blurry, patchy, shows Eren the outline of his bedroom, the shadow of a figure standing next to his bed.

With each beat of his heart, his head pounds, as if the blood pumped through his body comes in excess, desires to burst from his ears and eyes.   
Eren groans, reaches out to the figure he recognizes as someone familiar, someone safe.

Regardless, when his hand is clasped by the shadow’s, a burst of cold cradles his body and memories of the devil worm themselves back into his foggy brain.

He survived. It had tried to choke him to death, had banged his head against the floor, which explains the headache and –when swallowing- the ache in his throat. But he’d survived.

Eying the tar-colored hand clasped into his own, Eren brushes his thumb over the skin, watches the oil spread until hues of brown are witnessed, until skin is shown underneath the thick liquid. Revealed to him is a hand identical to his and with this more memories surge forward.   
Memories of his own distorted face, snarling and berserk with rage. It’d been himself, hurting Eren. Eren damaging Eren.

Had it always been him? All these hallucinations urging him to face his demons, had they been addressing Eren? Had they been hinting at him to take a look in the mirror, shatter the glass and pull himself through it, back into the real world?

Blinking, Eren finds his surroundings come into focus, witnesses how he’s folded his hands together, reached out above him.   
Glancing at the bedroom door, Eren’s heart skips a beat at his own thoughts; what if Levi doesn’t even exist? What if Levi is Eren? What if every human being he’s ever interacted with had been himself? So which one is the real Eren, if so?   
Is Eren, Eren?

Sitting up hastily, the boy takes a deep breath, urges his heart to calm down its rapid rhythm, wills down the nausea in his stomach.

This changes everything, if true. For starters it means that there’s no place to hide nor a way to run. There is no escape from his own prison and he can hardly negotiate with a subconscious that has made up its mind. He can hardly protect himself from a creature apparently eager to off itself; Eren.

So, should he kill the demons before they kill him?

Or is that the plan of them? A twisted plot to have Eren accidentally murder himself rather than silence his madness.

The sole fact that he’s considering this in the  first place shakes Eren out of his pondering. It makes him uncomfortable, feel frightened, that he’s this out of control. This insanity might be within the cage of himself, but so is Eren and each and every one of his delusional thoughts is out to hurt him and each other.

When the bedroom door, he’s been staring at for minutes, opens and reveals Levi, Eren isn’t sure. He doesn’t know if it’s Levi. He doesn’t even know if Levi is anyone to begin with. Did this man ever exist or has he been conjured up by no other than Eren’s hallucination, Eren’s... sickness?   
After all, it’d be a lot easier to blame a villain than himself for the misery he’s going through.

This all might explain why he at times feels safe around him, feel like he’s known him before, because Levi literally is Eren. And it might explain as to why he’s frightened of him other times, because Levi is literally Eren’s illness.   
It makes sense, in that very moment... But the most ludicrous of matters make sense to a mad man. Still... It doesn’t seem as crazy as it would per definition.

So, how is he to prove to himself whether or not his new assumption is correct?

“How are you feeling?” Levi’s hoarse voice breaks through and Eren watches the man walk inside, tray of food in hands. 

“Like I’ve been run over by a truck.” Eren blandly states, feels as if the words spill out on their own, feels like he didn’t even register Levi’s question, yet still manages to reply. Feels like someone else is speaking for him... He’s completely out of it. Disconnected from himself.

“Doesn’t surprise me.” Says Levi as he lowers the tray onto Eren’s lap, ignores the boy’s dismissive gesture.

“Eat.”

“Did I hurt myself?” The boy asks, prods the mashed potatoes with a fork before glancing up at Levi when no reply comes.

The man looks surprised, hides it quickly when meeting the boy’s gaze.

“You remember?”

“Am I the creature?” Eren asks himself more than Levi, ignoring the man’s question as the answer is obvious.

“What?”

“The demons and devils and wolves and corpses. They’re all me, aren’t they?”

Gazing up at Levi shows him frowning before he takes a step forward, reaching out. Eren doesn’t flinch when the man places the back of his hand against his forehead, seemingly checking for a fever.    
This up-close, Eren squints, tries to find his own face in Levi’s but is only met by gray eyes, thin brows, tense lips and pale skin. There’s no resemblance... But it’s Eren... Isn’t it?

When Levi goes to pull away, Eren reaches up with his left hand, folds a fist into the collar of Levi’s black button-up; holding him in place.

Though instinctively grabbing the boy’s wrist, Levi only pulls away slightly, doesn’t try to peel off the kid’s fingers when they won’t let go. They stare at each other for a long while and the man almost relaxes in Eren’s hold.

That is until Eren lifts the fork in his right hand, hovers it in front of the man’s eye.

Levi stares at the utensil, eyes wide and crossed at the proximity.

“Eren...” His tone is warning, deceptively calm.

“Am I aiming at myself right now? If I stab your eyeball right now, I will know. I will know if it’s me or not.”

“Eren... It is _me_.” The man assures. Though the grip on Eren’s wrist tightens, his other hand is needed to lean onto the mattress as he’s bent over... He can’t reach up to grab the hand holding the weapon. He can’t do it without tumbling forwards.   
Eren wonders why Levi doesn’t just let go of his wrist, allow his only functional hand to grab away the fork and get to safety...

Wouldn’t Levi do that?

Wouldn’t anyone not being Eren and desiring to hurt himself do this?

“Who is me?”

The boy’s question makes Levi frown, makes those gray eyes glance away from the fork at him instead.

“Levi.” Is his answer.

“Why don’t you fight back, then?”

“Because there’s a fork in front of my fucking eyeball, that’s why.” He’s agitated, losing his composure. Human. It’s attractive.

“Wouldn’t that want to make you fight even more?”

“I rather come out of this with both my eyes.”

The boy snorts, adjusts his grip on the fork in his hand.

“I thought you liked taking risks.”

“You’re thinking of yourself. I don’t.” Levi’s voice trembles lightly, not unlike the muscles in his arm which is stretched  taunt as he’s leaning awkwardly on the bed.

“I like taking risks?” The accusation confuses Eren. He doesn’t see himself as such.

“You’re the one pointing a fork at my eye. Pretty sure you’re the impulsive one here, Eren.”

Well, when putting it that way, Eren can see the truth in it.   
He is indeed the impulsive one, isn’t he? He’s the one who’d tried to run away, the one who’d messed around with a kid at school, the one who’d... Well... There’d be more if he weren’t run by fear half of the time. But it rings true. Impulsive, risk-taker, spontaneous, loud and not afraid of a fight.

Is that not Eren?

Is that not who he used to be?

“Do me a favor...” Levi mumbles after a moment of silence.

Eren glances back up at him, his chest warms at how he can see specks of blue within the gray of his irises. He’d never noticed before, never had been in a well-lit room this close  to Levi before without a dozen demons distracting him.

“Use that fork to eat. There’s enough time to stab me later.”

Eren scoffs at the man’s joke, though his stomach is still in knots at the thought of no one existing around him, of himself having made up characters to keep him company. What if he wakes up in a white room tomorrow? A snow-colored space with padded walls and cushioned floor.   
A cheap ending to a chaotic story, most certainly.

Regardless of his suspicions, Eren obeys, enjoys Levi’s company, enjoys how for once Levi had been communicating in a sane fashion. Eren revels in the normalcy of his behavior, no matter the absurdity of Eren’s.   
Levi had kept his cool... It’d been grounding and comforting.

“I would never stab Levi.” Eren murmurs before he inserts food into his mouth.

Levi quirks an eyebrow as he goes to stand at the  foot end of the bed.

“Well, let’s hope I’m Levi, then.” Is his deadpan reply.

“Yeah, let’s.” The teenager agrees before a hunger awakens and he sets to devour the food placed on his lap.

The entire time he’s eating, Levi doesn’t look away once. His lips are curled into a distant smirk, his eyes stare as if lost in thought.   
Eren finds the facial expression typical of the man... So unlike a face he’d make himself, right?


	25. Note Books

She finds his address by snooping through Carla’s desk-drawers. Or so she assumes. 

Looking down at the address and short description as to what way to drive from it to reach a destination, the only detail hinting to who’s location she’s holding is the ‘E. S.’ at the top of the note. Erwin Smith. Hange keeps her ears focused on the sounds coming from downstairs. With Carla distracted by dishes and Hange’s excuse of having to visit the bathroom, she has limited time to decide what to do with the information found. 

She pockets the note, descends the stairs, yet fails to not mention the boy from twelve years ago. 

Carla is surprised when Hange brings up Erwin Smith. She fiddles with the kitchen towel in her hands, glances at Grisha who remains seated at the kitchen table, stiffly. Hange isn’t sure if his body language is caused by the damage done to his physique two years ago or by sheer nervousness. 

Though she can’t get many answers out of them before they urge her to leave, Hange does recall peeking into Eren’s bedroom; untouched, dust on surfaces that should be smooth if only by regular use.   
Eren is gone from their home, has been for a while, and records show he’s alive, yet not incarcerated. 

So, where is he? 

Seated in her car, Hange uncrumples the paper she’d hastily shoved down the pocket of her pants. 

Could it be? Levi, Erwin and their father had disappeared over a decade ago, yet bodies have never been retrieved. Carla’s kind words regarding Erwin when she’d bumped into her in a grocery store plenty of years ago. Eren setting his father on fire, two years ago. 

It’s farfetched, but... Recalling Erwin’s obsession with Carla, recalling how he’d admitted to starting to like Eren... 

Hange glances up into the rear-view mirror, frowns at herself for the absurdity in her thoughts. She never quite bought the reasoning nor the ‘facts’ released to the public about the triple homicide. Nor has she ever quite been able to put a finger on Erwin’s mental state.   
There’s more than two disturbed people in this town, of course... But the violence of Erwin’s dreams and the horror of Eren’s actions bond them together in her mind. 

It shouldn’t make sense, however. She’s biased by cliché, by prejudice. But she can’t let go, hasn’t been able to for more than a third of her lifetime. 

This address might be a start. 

* * *

Hange’s always been curious. At times, to an inappropriate extent. At just seven years old she did an entire investigation as to why her parents divorced, only to find out her father had been seeing the lady next-doors and her mother had been hiding an addiction that gripped her more than she could ever break from. 

Regardless of the bleak start into her preteens, Hange managed to fight her way through life’s endeavors. She worked student-jobs and managed to study throughout her evenings, managed to graduate and chase an education that she believed would satisfy her curiosity in human kind.   
Yet, it only served to make her grow more confused at her fellows, to the point where she’d become a tad obsessed with having a label ready for everyone, including herself. 

Considering her peculiar personality, considering how her mind might be wired quite differently from others she’s met, served an incapability to connect with other throughout her life. Hange has been floating for years, feeling her toes reach the earth’s surface when figuring out other human beings in therapy with her, yet has any solidity dissipate the moment she comes home and her brain unwinds. 

It’s frustrating. This endless search for answers she very well knows can never be given to her as nothing on this planet is black and white; including its inhabitants. 

And Erwin Smith is such a ludicrous persona that she’s never been able to let him go. The more absurd one is, the more morbid one acts, the more intrigued Hange becomes. 

This is why, when knocking on the door of a worn cabin in the middle of the woods, she can’t quite decide whether she’d prefer Erwin to open it or Eren. The latter, after all, seems to be beyond disturbed if the hearsays are correct; violent, unruly, rebellious. 

The answer is disappointing, regardless. 

No one comes to the door and when placing hands and nose against the glass of a nearby window, she can’t see any movement inside either. The house is incredibly dark for how much sunlight the outside world is cascaded within. Yet, that’s to be expected with curtains half drawn and windows dirtied with dust. 

Rounding the house, Hange finds a backdoor and as she waits a handful of minutes after knocking on it, she tries the door handle.   
It opens. 

As if burned, she retrieves her hand, watches the door sway open slowly, the visibly-rusty hinges creaking loud enough to have the noise drag itself down her spine.   
Hange shudders once, grows cold enough that she embraces herself, rubbing hands over upper-arms. 

Staring a moment longer at the entrance, Hange waits for anyone to show up. Yet, the longer she remains, the more wind picks up; swooping her hair and soon enough having tiny drops of ice-cold rain touch her skin.   
As if frightened away by whatever’s been released after opening this cabin’s door, the sun hides behind massive gray clouds which appeared so suddenly it would’ve made Hange suspicious if she were in any sense superstitious. 

Luckily for her, she isn’t, and after taking a deep breath to calm down the odd anxiety creeping at her feet, climbing up her legs, she shakes off the sensation and enters the cabin. 

Glancing around shows her a dated kitchen, dark and dull, the only light tones coming from a white refrigerator and stove. The second she considers no one actually lives here, Hange’s eyes fall onto two unfinished plates of breakfast. 

“Hello?” She calls out, walking towards the table and finding the scrambled eggs steaming slightly; fresh, still warm. 

“Hello? Is anybody there?” She tries again, though knowing the answer. 

Why would two people leave their breakfast at her arrival rather than greet her at the entrance or even chase her away when finding her opening the back door, uninvited?   
Unless it’s two children, home alone... In which case, Hange should just step outside and await a parent’s arrival. 

When she does turn around to exit the kitchen, a draft picks up intensely enough to have the wind travel throughout the house, slamming shut the back door hard enough to rattle the windows nearby. Against better judgement, Hange still jumps at the noise, grows tense when enclosed in absolute silence.   
There’s a pressure in this house, a lack of air, a point of gravity firmer than that of the outside world. As if this cabin sucks her down, urges her to keep movements to a minimal. 

Then again, it’s an old building... Probably hasn’t been aired out properly for ages and as Hange scoffs at herself, she walks towards the backdoor. 

“Psst.” 

Hand mid-air, she freezes at the sound coming from behind her.   
A glance over her shoulder shows no one... Yet, an endless stretch of pitch-black contained within a hallway stares back at her.   
The sound had come from there, undoubtedly. 

“Erwin?” She calls out his name, would find sense in that boy –now a man- trying to creep her out. 

Turning around and pacing towards the hallway, Hange’s shoulders pull up higher with each creak of a floorboard underneath her, the heels of her boots loud in the quiet of the cabin. 

“Erwin, don’t play games.” Hange warns though her voice is absurdly shaky. Even with not quite understanding why she feels this freaked out, she continues on her way. 

Stood in front of the hallway, she squints, tries to see anything within the tunnel of black. There’s nothing, just one, long shadow, capable of hiding anything, really.   
Regardless, even if deaf, she would’ve caught the sound of thumping feet coming from right above her If only by the vibrations they cause. 

Glancing up, Hange watches the ceiling, as if able to see through it and find out who’s above her. 

Hesitating momentarily, eyes traveling from hallway to staircase and back, she considers. Considers the outcomes. The worst that could happen is that she bumps into a stranger, has them upset with her and chase her out of the house. The other result might be that she does find Erwin and he won’t be happy to see her. 

But, that’s about it. 

Yet, why does she feel this on edge? 

After another glance into the hallway, Hange walks towards the staircase, ascends it slowly. 

The upstairs consist of plenty of rooms, most of which are locked solid. There’s a bathroom unlocked, small, aged. A bedroom, the ceiling of it in an angle as the roof above slopes down, a window looking out at the forest surrounding the cabin. It contains a single bed, matching night-stand beside it, a desk and closet to the right.   
Though clearly a room lacking personality, it is lived in by not more than one person. It feels juvenile to Hange, making her consider that this might be Eren’s room... 

When about to enter and snoop around for belongings that’d identify its owner to her, Hange’s attention is lured away by the creaking of a nearby door.   
Whipping her head to the left, she stirs at seeing the single door at the end of the hallway creep ajar. 

“Hello?” She calls out, yet as before, no reply comes. 

Gazing at the dark of whichever room has been revealed to her by either draft or a person hiding, a shiver crawls up her spine.   
Regardless, it doesn’t stop her from chasing the new lead and soon enough she finds herself entering the room offered to her. 

When finding and flicking the nearby light-switch, she’s met by the sight of a small office. Shelves of books hide the entire backwall, the desk in the center is covered with papers, files and stationary items. It’s crowded and dark, the overhead lamp orange in its glow. 

Uninviting. 

With shoulders drawn up, Hange walks farther inside, rounds the desk, slides her fingers over the papers. They consist of different kinds, documents and contracts, information and calculations. Whoever lives here works a boring job and seemingly are overwhelmed by the sheer amount witnessed on top of the furniture alone. 

Opening the top drawer of the desk, Hange witnesses even more paperwork, a hole puncher, pens. The second one contains more of the same. The third, however, is locked. 

Her curiosity swirls, itches her hands, gnaws at her mind. Why is it locked? What is in there? 

Staring at it for a solid minute, Hange knows she’s already made up her mind at which option to choose, that is whether to walk away or pick the lock.   
The latter, truly, is the only outcome in her head. 

A bobby pin withdrawn from her hair, and a background of practice as a nosy child is all she needs to open the drawer and to find only a single, black note book inside. 

Retrieving it, she lowers herself on the desk chair next to her, placing the book down before opening it. 

The first page, at the most, confuses her. Hange frowns at the word ‘MOTHER’ written down at the top. Black pen had been used, been carved repeatedly to give the letters a bold and aggressive look. Stroking a finger over the ink allows her to feel the indents from the force that’d been used, a few spots have even been broken through the paper, like a peepshow to the next page. 

Regardless, there’s plenty to be seen as is. A date Hange knows to be Erwin’s date of birth (the day and month memorized because it matches a national holiday, the year because of her favorite song’s release-date), or perhaps his mother’s date of passing.   
Hange lowers her eyes, observes the white-space in the middle before squinting at the bottom of it. The drawing is jarring.   
Her lips tighten at witnessing the crude portrayal of female genitalia, inside of it –peeking out- a single eyeball. 

Staring back at it, she tries to connect any dots. Aware of Erwin’s mother having passed away during childbirth would make the picture and label correlate with one another... Yet still, the aggression behind drawn lines, the detail put into the eyeball’s blood-vessels –enraged- and into the pubic hairs portrayed as eyelashes –inappropriately intimate- … It’s not something she’s ever witnessed before. 

Her heart skips a beat, her stomach flutters, anxiety. 

Flipping the page doesn’t improve anything. 

A name, a date, a drawing –this time around a lot less shocking as it’s a mere pillow, the edges of it frayed-. And in the middle; something within airtight plastic, stapled to the paper.   
Brushing her finger over the object doesn’t allow her to identify anything other than that it has the appearance of dried meat. The color is reddish, tints of brown and pink peeking through here and there. It’s uneven at the surface though the upper curve of it reminds her of the top part from the shell of an ear. 

Yet again she turns the page, the sound of it oddly loud next to the beating of her heart. 

Another name, a date, some sort of meat in airtight plastic, a drawing of train-tracks with intestines smeared across them. 

She turns the page. 

A name. A date. Meat. A drawing of scissors. 

She turns. 

A name. A date. Meat. A drawing of a hand reaching out from the surface of black water. 

She turns. 

She recognizes the name. The date. The face on the ID card glued above the meat. The drawing portrays a single boot, hairs sticking out from between the ridges of the sole.   
Letting her eyes travel back up the page, she slides her finger over the plastic of the flesh towards the identity card. 

Levi and Erwin’s father. 

Holding her breath for a few moments before exhaling slowly, Hange once more turns the page, knowing what face will be revealed to her next. 

And though sure enough, Levi’s face stares back at her from the ID on the following page, the name does not meet expectations. 

“Erwin Smith...” She whispers to herself, frowns at seeing Erwin’s older brother’s face. The young man she’d thought had been Levi Ackerman.   
Yet, her stomach knots when seeing the drawing of a sledge-hammer underneath. 

So Erwin- no, Levi... Levi did it, unless the next page... 

Exhaling shakily she turns yet another page, witnesses a stranger and not the features of the raven-haired boy she had had in therapy over a decade ago. 

Going through the rest of the note book she comes across two more people before a loose page with the name ‘CARLA’ stares back at her. Hange sits up, as if threatened by seeing the familiar name. No date is displayed –no death-, no plasticized meat, no drawing either. Just the name with a big red x crossing it out. 

Had Carla been... Had he planned to kill her? 

The simple wording of the word ‘kill’ in her mind causes Hange to grow tense. She swallows, wills down the nausea at figuring out she’s flicking through a book of murder victims. Literally so, as these red and brown and yellow objects certainly consist of people Erw- Levi's murdered. 

However, that damn curiosity, that desire to see things through, to figure it all out, force Hange to go further, yet she’s met with empty pages. Blank, every single one of them until the very last one. 

Clasping a hand over her mouth, Hange stares down at the name and ID card. There’s no date, no flesh, yet a drawing of two hands reaching out towards a desire not put onto the paper yet. Behind the name, a red question mark is crudely forced into the paper.   
Even without the name glaring at her she’d recognize those large, green eyes. 

“Eren.” She whispers. 

“He’ll be the last one.” 

The woman yelps in a shudder as she shuts the book hastily, pushes away from the desk so her chair rolls back and she can look up to witness no other than the man she believed to be Erwin standing in the doorway. 

“Levi...” She whispers, wide-eyed, on edge. 

He doesn’t look much different. The same haircut, the same pale complexion, the same light and cold eyes. Other than sharper angles to his jaws and more muscles in his shoulders, Levi remains the same creature she’d witnessed in therapy, twelve years ago. 

“Oh, you’ve figured it out?” Levi asks her and though his eyebrows are raised, the surprise on his features is bland, feigned. 

He shifts and Hange’s legs grow tense as they prepare to get up. Regardless, the man only goes to cross his arms, letting himself fall sideways until his shoulder bumps against the doorpost. Every muscle inside of him seems to move in calculated fashion, even the ones that make his lips curl into a faint smile. 

Hange marginally relaxes into her seat, leans backwards as her hands grab onto the arm-rests. Her nails dig into the leather. 

“Mother was the first victim.” Levi says after a moment, glances down at his feet before staring out in front of him, at somewhere behind Hange. 

“A peculiar way to kill another person; through childbirth. What better way to explain one being born a killer?” 

Hange glances around while he speaks, tries to locate a possible weapon to fight back once he decides to drop the charade and pounce on her. Not only does Levi know Hange is aware of his history of murders, but moreover is he beginning a confession; a self-assured, arrogant, gloating story-telling.   
Her stomach turns. 

“She died.” Hange says when unable to locate anything heavier than the desk lamp. Her voice is hoarse, surprisingly so. When swallowing, she takes note of how tight her throat feels, apprehension and fear stifling her. 

“No. She was murdered.” Levi assures, his eyes widening slightly, as if insulted by Hange’s reasoning. A reasoning which he certainly can not see, let alone translate to a language his instinct comprehends. 

“You believe she would just go and give up on me the second I come out and fill my lungs with my first breath of air? You think she’d be as vile as to carry me around for nine months until walking out on me? You accuse her of not being willing enough to survive, of not loving me enough to fight?” 

His words come out in hums, low and deep beginnings of snarls and growls. With some words his face contorts into a grimace, as if the subject of their conversation pains him to speak about.   
And it likely does... The denial he’s in... The absurd theories... He truly believes he killed her and from that point onward, he’d been doomed. 

“She did not take herself away from me._ I _did.” Levi assures, looks away with jaws clenched. 

“_ I _ took her away.” 

A need of control had been apparent within him twelve years ago, and in a morbid way it now makes sense to Hange as to where it’d come from. 

She nods at him stiffly when he looks over. 

Levi’s face relaxes slightly as he unrolls his shoulders and unfolds his arms.   
Hange watches him dig his hands into the pockets of his pants before he walks over slowly. 

“Where’s Eren?” She asks him when he paces towards the desk. 

Tilting his head sideways, Levi doesn’t reply. Instead, the man chooses to places his fingers atop the notebook, opening it to his step-father's page. 

“He was an awful man, you know?” Levi murmurs, taps a finger onto the plasticized flesh. 

“Having been given the opportunity to kill my mother in such a unique manner, gave me the idea to never use the same technique twice.” 

Hange watches Levi’s finger slide lower towards the drawing of the boot with apparent pieces of flesh and hair stuck to the sole of it. Forced to place a hand onto her stomach when figuring out what he’d done to him, Hange can’t find the strength within herself to speak. 

“They say watermelons have the same consistency to a human skull when it comes to resistance, strength, amount of matter spilling out. I practiced on them.” 

Glancing up at him shows him smirking lightly before it falls off after a scoff. 

“Not quite. Perhaps I got lucky with the angle, but it took a handful of stomps before I heard it crack.” 

“Stop.” Hange whispers, only finds her body’s trembling when she reaches out to the note book, desiring to close it.   
Yet, Levi takes it away, holds it up against his chest as if he’s presenting a chart. 

“He molested some kids back in the day. And though I didn’t have a personal quarrel with him other than that I disliked his arrogance, he got in the way.” 

“In the way of what?” 

Again, Levi ignores her question, looks down at the book he’s holding and taps on the piece of flesh. 

“It’s a dried piece from one of his testicles.” 

“Levi, you need-” 

“Not only did I take it because he’d let himself be led by his perversions. But as well because he lacked the balls to face justice the various times he’d been arrested for this and that.” 

“Levi,-” Hange tries again, can hear her ears ring as her blood pressure sky-rockets alongside the anxiety she’s experiencing. She’s going to die here if she doesn’t get out. There’s not a chance this lunatic will let her go after all this. 

She would’ve never guessed... She... Well, she’d suspected him before, but after Carla’s reassurance, after listening to logic over bizarreness... There’s no way someone like this exists outside of movies. 

“This-” Levi continues as he flips the page to Erwin. 

“A piece of his brain. Because he got too clever for his own good. Because he got in my head. Moreover, because no matter his degrees and intelligence, in the end he didn’t spend a second thinking of me when out with others, when out chasing his own dreams.” 

Levi stares down at the page he’s holding up for Hange to see. He ponders over something. 

“A smartass, if you will.” He concludes and she can see his lips quiver as if he’s trying to stop himself from either crying or laughing. 

“Where’s Eren?” She whispers once more, tries to distract him as well as desires to find out about the boy, if only to get him to go with her if she manages to escape this. 

Regardless of her starting to plot a tactic of trying to talk him into letting her go –manipulate him at his own game-, Hange still jumps when he slaps the book closed before tossing it back on the desk in front of her. 

“You think I’d hurt him?” 

Their eyes meet and she isn’t sure what to tell him. An affirmative reply might anger him, the opposite might do the exact same. His mental state in this moment is chaotic at best; unpredictable and dangerous. There’s no way she can find a way out hastily... She needs patience, she needs to pay attention to every detail. 

“Do you want to?” 

Her question makes him straighten up, his head tilts momentarily. Gray eyes glance up to the side in the tell-tale manner that lets Hange know he’s actually digging for a genuine answer to a question he might not know the answer to. 

“There’s always two parts to hurting. One delivers pain, the other one receives it.” Levi shares thoughtfully. 

“It’s just pitiful that, in most cases, the receiver finds no enjoyment in it as much as the deliverer does.” 

“Would it be satisfying to the deliverer were the receiver enjoying it?” Hange tries and Levi looks at her in surprise. A soft grin curls his lips as he shrugs. 

“I guess not.” 

She asked the wrong question... Had she just assured him that hurting Eren is exactly what should be done for him to feel fulfilled? 

Biting her tongue, she sits in silence, cursing herself mentally. 

“There’s a false bottom in the drawer.” Levi says after a moment, picking up the notebook and reaching it out towards her. 

“Put it there.” 

Though surprised he’s seemingly done gloating, Hange takes the book from him, knows he can see how much her hands are shaking. 

The moment she sees the gun in the drawer, Hange knows it’s a trap. 

Levi takes note of her stirring. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks her, his tone teasing, lilted and deceptively soft. 

Not thinking about it twice, she drops the book and picks up the gun, aims it at Levi with both hands. 

Levi, not impressed, points at the weapon as he leans forward lightly. He moves his finger, wiggles it back and forth. 

“You’ve got to- The safety is on.” He tells her. 

Ignoring how she’s being mocked, Hange pulls back the pin with her thumb, the click loud, though her own labored breathing deafens her. 

“Why did you lead me to the gun, Levi?” With a shaky voice she asks him a question she can’t answer. Doubting Levi would aim for her to kill him and rid him from his ways, it leaves her wondering as to why he’d ever allow her to hold a weapon after having confessed to multiple murders. 

“I polished it last night. Even put some ammo in it, just to make sure.” 

“Why- How would you know? I told no one I was co-” She snaps her mouth shut at betraying herself. Now the man knows no one is aware of her whereabouts... If she gets killed, or even hurt, no one’s going to find her. Her car’s parked right outside the cabin, far too deep into the woods, not to mention close enough for Levi to spot it once he steps outside and to get rid of it. 

“My past always tries to catch up with me. It was just a matter of time before someone uninvited would come pay me a visit... Let’s have some coffee.” Levi says with a shrug, smiles swiftly before he turns around and exits the office. 

His sudden movement makes Hange stand up, still aiming to gun at him as he is swallowed by the hallway’s shadows. 

“You could always shoot me in the back of the head. I promise I won’t tell anyone of your cowardly ways.” Levi calls out behind him. 

The joke is tasteless, causes Hange to grimace as she lowers the pistol. 

Against her better judgement, after glancing down at the note book on the floor, after seeing Eren’s name staring back at her, she decides she can’t leave here without the kid.   
He has to be here... She can’t just... She can’t just leave and allow this man to hurt the boy, no matter how troubled he is. 

Hange takes a few deep breaths before she follows Levi into the hallway, down the stairs, back into the kitchen. 

Her eyes connect with a pair of green ones that seem equally as surprised as her, though less frightened. 

“Eren...”


	26. Fatal Curiosities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For future chapters, I really advise you to take a look at the tags once more. Especially the non-con one (it's been there from the start so I hope you've kept this in mind!)  
I'm currently writing SMUT. Yes, finally. I'm a few chapters ahead but it won't be long anymore, my guys.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter : )  
And as always, thank you for the support (it makes my day and gets me motivated to write)

Eren looks awful.

Though not emaciated, he appears too skinny for a boy his age and his length. His sweater’s collar hangs low, shows visible collarbones meeting at the base of his throat. There’s dark circles underneath his eyes and his tanned complexion is pale even in the dim kitchen light.   
The state of his hair, messy, as if not combed for days, long enough to swoop around his ears and at the base of his neck, make Hange crave to brush her fingers through it.

Yet, above all, her eyes are drawn back to his throat of which the skin is blemished with red and purple patches. For a second she thinks they’re hickeys and the thought of this adult male fooling around with a teenage boy makes the hairs on her neck stand up. However, as she adjusts her glasses, squints, she can see the shapes of the bruises are too long, too large, like the prints of palms and fingers.

Hange grimaces at the knowledge that someone –Levi undoubtedly- has choked the boy hard enough to leave such severe marks. It makes her think back to the drawing she’d seen beneath Eren’s name... Had Levi already tried to kill him?

It’s only when the silence stretches on and Eren’s eyes keep shifting from her face down to her hands, that  Hange recalls she’s holding a large, heavy, silver pistol.

“Eren, we have to go, we-”

“Coffee, tea?” Levi interrupts her and when meeting his gaze, something about it shuts her up. The dark in his eyes, the flared nostrils and clenched jaws, the manner in which his head is slightly dipped; forcing him to eye her from beneath lashes and furrowed brows...

Animalistic.

“Tea.” She whispers, forces herself to sit down on a nearby chair at the kitchen table.

The clatter of the gun being placed on the wooden top is loud. Shakes her from her thoughts momentarily.

With Levi’s back turned as he prepares them tea, she could easily get back up and run for the door leading into the backyard to the man’s left. Before he’d realize, she’d be outside, she could round the house, jump in her car, escape _this_.   
But, what about Eren? Observing him shows he’s confused more than anything and Hange watches, transfixed how the kid goes to stand next to Levi.

Their height difference isn’t as great as  Hange had expected at first, then again, the kid is only fifteen, still shorter than herself. He’ll become tall... Like his father and mother. That is, if  he  ever  gets the  chance to grow up.

The boy whispers something to Levi, leans in close enough for their arms to touch and  Hange observes how the shorter man  hunches at the proximity before he bumps the bo y with his shoulder ; forcing him to give him  space .

Their dynamic would’ve been interesting to her. The manner in which them seem to dance around one another, pushing and pulling, attracting and rejecting. It would’ve been fun to pick apart and label, read.   
Yet, Hange is still trembling, is still glancing at the door leading to the backyard, is still resting a hand on the pistol in front of her.

All she can think about is that she might end up getting murdered, and Eren alongside with her.

What is she thinking, sitting here? Why is she listening to this man? She knew him as a boy. He’s harmless, isn’t he? Carla said so, and she’d known him better than  Hange . Is this all made up? Like  perhaps  his violent dreams in the past were ? He’d said so many shocking things before, it’s only natural for him to try and act out like the screwed - up being he believes he is.

But that doesn’t mean he actually... That can’t be true. It’s ridiculous.

When Levi turns around, holding two cups of steaming tea,  Hange gets up abruptly. The wooden chair clatters to the floor, causing Eren –stood once more at the table ’s end to her right- to flinch and Levi to quirk one eyebrow.

“No need to rush.” The man murmurs, placing down her cup of tea while she quickly grabs the gun and holds it up at him.

Eren inhales audibly, yet Levi seems unbothered, goes as far  as  to sit down across from her; leans back in his seat , momentarily b a lances the chair on its hind legs, a nd sips gingerly from the cup of tea he’s holding.

“Eren, come with me.”  Hange hisses, keeps glaring at Levi as she moves towards her left. Yet, three steps in, when noticing Eren isn’t following her, she stops.

“Eren!” She urges as she quickly glances at the boy still standing awkwardly at the end of the kitchen table. His eyes are wide, mouth agape slightly.

“Who are you?”

“That doesn’t matter right now, we need to go, I’ll explain later.”

When Levi snorts,  Hange feels insulted. How dare this absolute freak laugh at her panic?! Even if this is all a game, Eren’s not safe around a man like him.

“She used to be my shrink.” Levi answers Eren ’s question for her, though  Hange doubts he’d share this information if not for his own benefit. This kid, likely, is brainwashed by this enigmatic fuck-up.

“Okay.” Eren says with a frown, likely not seeing the point in all of this.

“Eren, he’s a murderer. You’re not safe.” 

There, she said it. Even if untrue, it’s a big enough label to scare anyone away.

“What... What is she talking about? What’s going on?” Eren asks and  Hange doesn’t miss how his body sways slightly to the right, to where Levi is seated. He doesn’t believe her... Is pulled towards the man.

Levi takes another sip from his tea before placing down the cup on the table , right next to the unfinished plate of breakfast .

“You know this already , Eren.”

“I do?”

“ Of course ... After all, you’re the one who helps me.” Levi states and he folds his hands behind his head, arrogantly making himself seem bigger than he is. H e st are s at Hange and though his lips remain relaxed, there’s a curve to his eyes betraying amusement.

“Like, when at Jean’s, you packed a bag of his personal belongings to make it  look  like he ran from home.” Is the man’s e laboration  and  Hange vaguely remembers the name ‘Jean’ from the note  book. It takes her a few moments before remembering the drawing of a grave with a shovel stuck into a pile of earth.

“Buried alive...” She whispers.

“Yes,  t ogether with the bag you packed, Eren. Thank you.”

A silence stretches on and the rumble of a distant thunderstorm only adds to the gloomy atmosphere. Clouds cradle the sun, darken the kitchen even more.

“I don’t remember...” Eren whispers.

“That’s quite alright.” Levi smiles for Eren but doesn’t look away from  Hange . The smile isn’t kind whatsoever and yet Eren exhales in relief. This boy is tricked, cursed...  Hange needs to save herself... This kid, he’s never going to... He will never get away from Levi, will he?

The young woman watches, feels her heart sink as Eren stares at Levi with open eyes and open heart. He’s in awe of him. It’s absurd.

“You don’t need to remember to have it be meaningful... to _me_.” Levi assures Eren and at last glances at the boy. The moment passes in no time however, and Hange can’t seem to move with the man’s eyes on her. Even with her pointing a gun at him, a weapon heavy enough to have her arms tremble and shoulders ache, she can’t seem to collect enough courage to run for the door.   
If this is all true... He will not let her escape.

“Just like you don’t remember fetching Dr. Zoe’s car-keys from her car.”

“You’re joking.”  Hange hisses as she grows rigid at Levi’s teasing.

“You’ve always been hectic, haven’t you? Forgetting papers, forgetting keys, forgetting to lock the backdoor of your home...”

Hange can physically feel herself grow pale, cold nips at the skin of her face as her blood-pressure drops at the mere idea of Levi having broken into her place at any given time in the past. Her body craves to pass out, remove its conscious state from this scenario.

“You’re so busy looking for answers, trying to fix things and label people, that you leave your car unlocked outside of a cabin that could belong to a mad man. How foolish, Dr. Zoe.” Levi sighs, reaches out his hand towards Eren who seems as surprised as  Hange when  –after patting down his body-  retriev es her keys from the pocket of his jeans.

He takes them from him.

“Levi, don’t do this.” Hange whispers, feeling herself grown light-headed at the realization that Levi is indeed the man he says he is. That his intentions are brutal at best and that Eren... This beautiful child that had hidden behind his mother’s skirt when seeing Hange years prior, is working with him.   
Levi’s corrupted this child into working alongside him, committing crimes... being an accomplice in murders... 

“Just shoot me.” Levi says matter-of-factly  –shrugs nonchalantly-  as he gets up from his chair.

“Levi...” The boy’s whisper is light, shaky and with the snap of his fingers, Levi sends him upstairs.

He obeys , leaves them.

And Hange’s left witnessing Levi round the table towards her, swirling her keys around a finger before clasping them in his hand as he comes to a stop in front of her. The barrel of the gun presses into his chest and she holds her breath when Levi clasps his fingers around it.   
Rather than pull the weapon away from himself, he pushes it slightly up and to the left.

“Aim for the heart if not the head.” Is his murmur before he lets go and looks up at her.

“So what now?”

“Levi. We don’t need to do this. I can go  home, I won’t tell anyone about-”

Levi barks a single laugh, gazes at her in disbelief, incredibly entertained for some reason. Granted, it sounds like a ridiculous lie and  Hange knows if she survives this, she’ ll go to the police straight away. Regardless, in this moment, she’d promise him anything to get out.

“I know your need for answers and  conclusions ,  Hange .” He hisses her first name as if it is insulting to his tongue to have to form it. He’s never said her name before... It’s morbidly intimate, forcing a connection between them. Levi’s personalizing this entire scenario, if only to find enough reason within himself to get rid of her.

She assumes.

“Why do you do it?” The question is unnecessary, self-tormenting, but even now; facing this demonic man, she craves logic.

“Freedom.” Levi speaks the word so lovingly that it could’ve been the name of a lover, of a first-born child.

“People like you will never understand. You’ll never grasp the exhilaration of taking control of your own life, of your own being, your own flesh. Killing is freeing. Killing is rebirth. New life sucked from another. Clean s ed and filtered, pure for the taking. Blank  slates for me to etch my future on .”

As expected, the rambling doesn’t make sense to her. Though certain it makes sense in his mind,  Hange can’t even start to try and puzzle it together. She tries to find any lead as to how to talk to him, to calm him down and convince him to just let her go.

“Why the... the pieces, why-”

“To become.” Is his immediate reply, not even allowing her to  finish. His eyes are dark, no amusement to be witnessed on his blank features. 

“One god-like being made of filtered filth. New chances for them, continuous growth for me.”

Hange stares at the man for a while. The only sounds she can hear are the pounding of her heart and her own shallow breathing. Finding anything humane within him is useless. She searches with her eyes wide open, takes in every inch of Levi’s features and finds nothing kind, no openings, nothing to receive her logic.

Turns out that her gut-feeling, over a decade ago had been correct. She believes it now... His dreams, the shocking things he’d said, the murders. It makes actual sense when she goes back in time and recalls whatever he’d chosen to share with her, how he’d chosen to act and carry himself around her.

Levi has been aware from the start of how to use body language and facial expression in his favor; to confuse others, make them incapable of having a grasp o n what he’s  a bout, what is truth and what  is deceit .

“Levi... Give me the keys.” Hange whispers, removes one hand from the gun still pressed against his chest. With palm up, she opens her hand, allows it to hover between the two of them.

Not even looking down and allow her the benefit of surprise while he’d not be having his eyes on her, Levi places the bundle of keys into her hand. The sound is pleasant, relieving, and Hange exhales shakily at the hope given to her by him.   
Regardless, when clasping the keys, Levi doesn’t let go.

“Give me the gun.”

As her heart skips a beat,  Hange imagines he asks this only because he’s planning to kill her right here.

Levi must recognize the panic on her features, reads her mind, smirks softly.

“It’s mine. These are yours.” He shakes the keys, makes them chime as if urging  Hange to grab them from him. The metals are cold against her fingertips, having soaked no warmth even though Levi’s held them for plenty of minutes.

Is this man even human to begin with?

“You won’t shoot me?”

Levi frowns, as if the assumption is out of place.

“It’s not even loaded.” The man assures, wraps his fingers around the barrel and plucks the weapon from her trembling hand.

“You lied.” Is her unnecessary observation. Of course, he lied. He’s a murderer.

After letting the keys dangle for a few seconds longer, Levi allows the metal ring to slide off his finger, having the bundle collapse into Hange’s hand.   
As the object touches her hand, her lungs expand; allow her to inhale properly at the prospect of being one step closer to escaping this horrific scenario.

“About what? It being loaded or it being empty?” He’s teasing her, mocking her, like a cat playing with its prey and yet still... Still,  Hange hopes. She hopes to get away, hopes to talk him out of his plans. Hopes this is all one, sick joke.

“They’ll find out.” The new tactic; scaring Levi into letting her go, isn’t received well.

Hange watches Levi frown before he scoffs, lets the gun dangle next to his leg as he holds it loosely.

“Imprisonment nor death frighten me.” He assures her in a hiss, face contorted in either disgust or anger.

“Nothing,” His voice rises - bellows almost - causes Hange  to  flinch , before it lowers .

“Nothing frightens him who horrifies others.”

Back on the tangent as he is, Hange glances at the door to the left of the kitchen, behind Levi. She just needs to shove him away, run for the door, round the house and get in her car.   
He likely lied about the gun not being loaded... It’d be typical of his narcistic ways to allow her to wield a weapon able to kill him within a second.   
His cockiness might be his downfall one day and even if not by Hange’s hands, she hopes this man meets a gruesome enough punishment to shake him from his insanity and drown him in guilt.

And she prays Eren will escape him.

Images of a young Eren clinging to his mother’s skirt come back to her in flashes and she feels tears well up in her eyes.

Just a boy... A child... Children don’t deserve this. They don’t deserve death. They’re pure, innocent, able to be shaped and lead to do great things and-

“I’m pregnant!”  Hange exclaims and watches hopefully as  Levi’s face loses its gnarly edge. 

His stare worries her, makes her feel like he can look right through her eyes, find the lie conjured up in the brain behind them.

“Now why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” Levi asks, his voice sounding like he’s sulking, though his face is unreadable.

“Can I talk to it?” He asks as he places the gun on the table behind him.

“What-” Hange tries to ask but presses herself against the wall behind her when the man lowers himself onto his knees.   
Her heart stops momentarily as Levi lays his hands onto her hips before placing an ear against her lower belly.

This is a near perfect scenario however. She can shove him away, reach forward and grab the gun, run for it, or shoot him. Yet the bizarre behavior being displayed in front of her, the fear crippling her. All of it forces Hange to stare down –confused and disturbed- at the man murmuring against the fabric of her shirt.   
He is telling the made-up fetus things she can not comprehend. She can only feel his breath seep through the wool, onto her skin, only hears lilts and hums but can’t for the life of her figure out what he’s saying. The words are not recognized by her and it takes her a while to figure out it’s not her ears but his tongue that make it impossible for her brain to understand.

Levi is speaking Latin.

After every few sentences, he places his ear back against her stomach, as if listening for a reply.

Moments pass in which the pattern continues before Levi looks up at her. He’s scowling slightly.

“It’s not replying.”

She knows then that he  is aware , somehow,  of  that she lied. Levi’s toying with her and Hange concludes fighting is the only way out of this terrifying trap.

With a shout she shoves him off of her. As Levi tumbles backwards rather than to the side, she finds no time in reaching over to grab the pistol and instead runs around the table towards the backdoor.   
When a loud noise drowns out even her own rapid thoughts, Hange yelps, cups her ears and nearly has her knees buckle at the knowledge that Levi had just fired the gun behind her.

Stood in the middle of the kitchen, she looks over her shoulder at the man who is walking towards her slowly, weapon pointed at her.

“Oh my god.” She whimpers, her entire system so taken by shock and fear that it takes her several seconds before she figures out she’s not been hit and remembers to breathe, open the door in front of her.   
The haste in her movements causes Hange to have to push down the door handle a total of three times before she figures out that she has to pull rather than push.   
Once she’s managed to open the door however, she dashes outside fast enough to stumble over her own feet. Hands scrape as she catches herself on the concrete step leading into the house, before getting back up and running towards where she left her car.

Even through the noise of her rapid breathing and the pounding of her heart, even with her brain screaming at her to run faster still, she can hear Levi’s slow footsteps behind her.   
And she is aware that the man isn’t walking slowly for the sake of creeping her out –he's already succeeded at that as is-, but more so because he’s taking aim.

It’s not a game, it’s not fake. She hadn’t seen a single firearm in the man’s notebook. She knows, for certain, that he’s yet to kill someone with a gun and that that someone will be her.

Cursing herself for coming here in the first place- Hange feels tears roll down her cheeks, hears herself shouting at the key she’s trying to jam into the driver’s door. It’s been locked.   
But all is distant. The taste of bile and the scent of wet grass, it all lingers to her from a distance and she can’t figure out why she’s seemingly focusing on these senses. 

Yet, when the world spins and a split second of agonizing pain shoots through her entire nervous system, she knows she’s been shot. In the back, likely straight in the spine since she becomes entirely paralyzed.

The thud of her body collapsing onto the dirt beneath is more felt than heard.   
With ringing ears she tries to roll over onto her back, tries to lift her head or lean on her elbows; drag herself to the bundle of keys only an arm’s length from her.

Useless.

Feet clad in polished, black leather frame the metal objects.   
A pale hand hovers above them, picks them up. They clink together, chiming.

Hange watches Levi unlock her car, open the door and step aside. He waves an arm towards the driver’s  seat, his mouth moves but she can’t hear what he says. The smile on his lips is slight but nonetheless demeaning.

With her breathing growing shallow er ,  Hange feels her body grow colder by the second until the sensation of pins and needles overtakes every inch of her.

Dying in the middle of the day, underneath dark-gray clouds, lying on mud that stenches of blood isn’t the worst part of it. Not having said goodbye to anyone, even this isn’t the worst of it. Barely having hit forty, isn’t the worst of it either.

It’s having to see Levi squatted next to her, his head tilted down to observe her face, a feigned sad expression on his features even though amusement wrinkles the corners of his eyes and curls one side of his mouth.   
It’s knowing that this man might never get caught. It’s knowing that this man will hurt –murder- Eren Jäger. It's this man... This demon of a man... Knowing his existence will continue on, just makes her death that more miserable; killed for nothing.

Her lungs don’t work. Her heart slows down. Her brain becomes foggy. Her body sinks into the earth.

Hange is relieved when her eyes grow too heavy to stay opened. Is relieved the devil’s removed from sight , for it’s the most horrifying picture she’d ever witnessed.

Shudders her to the bone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heard people mention they find Levi to be attractive in this fic. That's a huge compliment considering he's rather OOC, thank you :D


	27. Muddied Corpses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy... we're getting closer, you guys. I really hope you enjoy this one as I had a lot of fun writing it.
> 
> WARNING: f-word will be said (derogatory term for homosexuals)

When leaving the house, Eren does so slowly. Even with the two gunshots he’d heard being fired –a sound so obliteratingly loud and unfamiliar that it’d taken him plenty of time before being able to identify it- there’s no haste in his step.   
On the contrary, he’s apprehensive to walk towards the front of the cabin when seeing no sign of anyone in the backyard.

Regardless, his feet carry him as if  controlled by curiosity alone  and by the time he arrives to his destination, the scene in front of him is disturbing.

“Levi, what did you do?” Eren gasps when spotting the female stranger sprawled onto the ground nearby a rusty, green vehicle.   
The man doesn’t reply, only glances up at him once before looking back down at the pistol he’s rubbing clean with the hem of his shirt.

When spotting Levi’s indifference, the boy passes him by, drops to his knees next to the woman. Trying to find a pulse in her wrist or her throat proceeds unsuccessfully and the boy leans down on all fours, places his ear next to her mouth.   
No air wafts against the shell of his ear, no voice speaks, and when sitting back up on his knees, all Eren can hear is the rumble of a nearing thunderstorm.

Glancing up shows dark gray clouds drowning the forest, swallowing the atmosphere and in that moment Eren believes he’s dreaming. This can’t be true, a nightmare, surely.

“Levi.” Eren exhales the man’s name, his thoughts spiraling into disbelief, into despair. A murder had taken place. A murder  committed by a man he’s supposed to live alongside with, a man who’s supposed to take care of Eren. A man, a being, chosen by his own parents to raise him.

Eren waits for the humming in his ears, waits for demons the blink their glowing eyes from between the trees of the forest that surrounds them. Eren waits until he wakes up.   
Yet, it never occurs and his mind genuinely feels clear, crisp even. Everything’s bright, the voice in his head doesn’t slur its words, doesn’t mumble or hiss either. All of what is going on inside of- and around him is disturbingly bland... Well, except for the body next to him and its killer walking over towards Eren as he points the gun towards him.

With his heart skipping a beat at seeing the weapon aimed at him, Eren scrambles to his feet hastily, almost tripping in his hurry.

“Levi, I won’t-” Eren stutters, raises his hands, his arms feeling heavy and weak as they tremble along with the rest of him.

The man’s features are expressionless. Gray eyes stare at Eren for an eternity before the gun is lifted to aim at the kid’s face.

His life depends on it, and yet still Eren can’t find the strength within himself to speak out. He just stands there, hands at shoulder-height as he keeps them lifted, staring wide-eyed and with mouth agape at Levi in front of him.   
An icy breeze caresses the nape of Eren’s neck, but his body refuses to shiver; the prickle buried at the base of his spine which remains stiff, frozen in fear like the rest of him.

Strands of hair swoop across Levi’s forehead in the wind. Eren observes the contrast between his pale skin and jet-black hair. With looks this jarring, how could he not have believed him to be a species of the worst kind?   
With irises nearly as light as the white of his eyeballs, how could Eren have ever felt attracted to the manner in which he’d gaze at him?

How had he been this fooled? Tricked... By Levi and undoubtedly his own delusions. As if his subconscious and this creature have worked hand in hand from the beginning. As if this sinner is the one fiddling with the  strings puppeteering his hallucinations with great care and even greater morbidity.

“Are you going to kill me too?” The boy asks, finds his voice wavering on yet another,  stronger gust of wind. The storm’s nearing.

Levi gazes at him, doesn’t speak. His eyes betray emotion but Eren can’t  quite  recognize which one exactly it is. Thoughtful comes close to it, yet a hint of melancholy accompanies his sharp features.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Eren.” His voice is hoarse,  more so than normal. Along with his words, Levi shakes his head slowly, furrows his brows as if he’s in pain.

And yet, true to his bizarre ways, the man’s face falls a split second later, his shoulders stiffen and he flips the gun around in his hand.   
Eren glances at the weapon, finds the handle pointing towards him rather than the barrel. An offer, specified by how Levi nudges it against Eren’s chest.

“Take it.”

“Levi-” Eren starts but ends up having to catch the gun before it drops to the floor.

With the cold metal pressed against his chest where he’s cradling it, Eren watches Levi stand quietly, gazing up at the clouds above them.

“It’ll rain soon. Shoot me now before the weather surprises you. I wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

Eren frowns at the man’s words, finds them absurd in their worry for his health right after exposing him to a murder scene. Right after offering him to commit a crime. Nothing ever makes sense with him. Nothing he says is ever entirely a bluff  n or a truth.

Inhaling deeply, the boy looks down at the pistol in his hands.

It’s clear that Levi is far worse than he thought he was. It’s obvious that in the end, no matter Levi’s desire to or not; Eren will be hurt by him.   
He’s murdered. And not only that but, apparently Eren’s helped him out as well.

Regardless, Eren isn’t sure he believes this. His mind might be deteriorating, certainly... Yet Levi could’ve slipped this woman’s car-keys into the pocket of his jeans when he’d bumped against him as he’d demanded him to hide upstairs before she’d entered the house.   
But had he? Had Eren ran up the stairs or had he followed Levi’s command and went out the front-door to her car?    
And with Jean... He doesn’t remember packing a bag, but he did mention this to the police months ago. Had he remembered wrongfully? Had Eren himself been the one to pack Jean’s rucksack to make it look like a runaway case? And if so, there would’ve been no reason for him to have done so if not for having known beforehand what his friend’s fate had been.   
So Levi would’ve had to have told him this before he visited Jean.

Then this... Does this explain his delusions? Does this explain what Erwin had told him in his dream? He knows these monsters he’s seeing because they’re figments of memories, of facts shared with him by no other than Levi.

Erwin himself, with the massive hole in the back of his head; had Levi told Eren he’d hurt Erwin? The burnt skeleton leaving prints; had Levi told him of someone he’d burned? The blood-soaked creature at school; yet another victim Levi’s told him about?

Lowering his hands, Eren lets the pistol dangle next to his leg.

He could shoot him.

He could end it all, right here. Perhaps if he severs this sinister bond his mind has with Levi, he’ll be back to his old self. A self that he can’t remember at this point in time, but certainly is out there, lingering in years passed by.   
This thing he’s become, can not be who Eren used to be. This isn’t him, is it?

However...

Raising the gun is futile; its weight so heavy it makes his shoulder ache. Eren is aware the strain is imagined by a conscience drowned in a mangled morality. Killing Levi would be a sin easily forgiven. Eren deserves better. Eren owes Levi nothing. 

But... 

Thunder cracks overhead and within seconds clouds above are torn apart; cascade the entire world in a blanket of rain.

Eren gazes at Levi who blinks water from his eye lashes while looking  back at him. The atmosphere around them turns gray, maudlin, but as well gloomfully intimate. 

“Maybe some other time, then?” Levi’s voice is raised, hardly breaking through the noise of the heavy downpour and rumbling thunder. The man glances down at the gun, wordlessly confirming the meaning behind his words.

Eren remains still when the man, after staring at him for a moment longer, start to walk over to him.

The gun is plucked gently from his cold fingers. Levi pockets it behind him in the waistband of his pants.

Eren expects him to turn around and walk towards the cabin, drown himself in the eerie shadows and disappear until the night allows him to peek at the boy from dark corners.   
But he doesn’t.

The boy’s breath hitches when Levi clasps his right-hand gently into his left.

“I’m sorry.” The man says. Eren  _ reads  _ the words, the volume of Levi’s voice too soft to break through the rain that drips from his thin lips.

Though uncertain what he’s apologizing for –and doubting that it’s sincere- Eren finds himself observing the man’s features rather than try and reply, rather than try and  _ accept _ . 

Levi looks distressed, though hides it behind a veil of disinterest. Regardless, the man’s eyes swoop from the kid’s gaze to his mouth and back, multiple times.

He wants to kiss him. It’s obvious, heavy, takes away Eren’s breath when figuring it out from his lidded stare.

“Levi...” Eren exhales but doesn’t know what to say next. The rain drenching them is ice-cold, soaks into their clothes and yet Eren feels his stomach coil, heat up together with the rest of him. Aware that he’s blushing, Eren stiffens.   
What is wrong with him? He’d just figured out this man’s a murderer. There’s a body lying face-down in the mud behind him. Jean’s been killed by this creature as well.

There’s no future here. There’s no outcome other than misery. 

And still he-

Eren’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt when Levi cradles the nape of his neck and pulls him down.  S omething hot and slick slides across the corner of his jaw right up over the entire shell of his ear .  Eren is so shocked by the sensation that it takes him a second before figuring out Levi had lapped at him. Obscenely lewd; flat tongue and an abundance of saliva, all bundled up in a heavy and shaky exhale.

As fast and sudden as it’d been done, Levi lets go of Eren and turns around. He walks towards the cabin and Eren finds himself tugged along.

A glance down shows their hands still clasped together.

The body behind them forgotten in the mud.

* * *

The rain lasts for the rest of the day and Eren finds himself seated in the dark living-room, staring out the window at the woman’s body.   
She’s moved slightly, yet only because of the mud beneath her giving way to her weight. Her hair is black because of how wet it’s become, strands of it appearing as strings disrupting her complexion which has become yellowed in the passing hours. Even her jaw’s relaxed enough to have her mouth agape and Eren grimaces at the odd sight of water continuously running from between her teeth onto the dirt underneath her cheek.

“She should be stiff by now.”

Eren jumps when Levi’s voice whispers into his ear.

“Jesus, Levi...” The boy curses, glances at the man who straightens back up to put some space between them. The corners of his mouth are curled up slightly... Though, it could be a trick of the eye considering how dark the room is with no lights turned on and the outside world suffocated by gray skies.

“You would know.” Eren murmurs dryly while gazing back outside.

The man pulls a chair next to Eren, sits down. Their knees touch.

It’d been simpler back then... Even with Eren’s mind having conjured up devils and demons, even with not having known truth from hallucination... It’d been simpler with touching knees and midnight spying.   
Before murder had come to light.

How are they ever going to get out of this mess?

_ ‘They’ _ .

“Aren’t you scared cops will  show  up here and see her?” 

Levi is quiet for a long time before he speaks, yet as expected –true to himself- he doesn’t reply and instead just changes the topic to something  _ he  _ wants to discuss.

“You’re dealing with this knowledge peculiarly well.”

Eren scoffs.

“You have no clue what’s going on in my head.”

“Neither do you.” Levi deadpans and their eyes meet when Eren glares at him. 

Gazing back out of the window, together with the man, Eren asks himself how much to blame he is for her untimely death. Would it have made any difference had he not stolen her keys? Probably not... Yet, if he’d known Levi’s intentions, he could’ve warned her. Could’ve called out to her from the staircase, advise her to turn around and leave.   
Yet... She’d been curious, snooped around... Died alone, outside. Executed. Killed so easily without second thought, like an animal.

“Did you ever kill an animal?” Eren asks, frowns at his own odd question.

“Never.” Levi murmurs.

“Why not?”

“They’re not a threat to me. Why would I? ”

“She was a threat?” The boy asks as he eyes the man from the corner of his eye.

Levi shifts in his seat, their knees rub.

“You’re really delicious.” Levi hums his confession and Eren’s so taken aback by what he says that he drops the entire subject he’d been trying to force between them. He wants to know why Levi kills, wants to know why this woman in particular had been a  ‘ threat ’ when all she’d done was show up.

But the peculiar words formed by his raspy voice go hand-in-hand with the memory of what had occurred earlier that day, outside. That is, how the man had lapped at the skin of Eren’s jaw and ear.

“Frankly, it turns me on.”

The words are spoken so casually that Eren isn’t sure he understood them correctly. 

Glancing at Levi from the corner of his eye shows him staring out the window and Eren doesn’t know if the man meant that his arousal is caused by the taste of Eren or by sight of a murder victim outside his house.

“But I’m not a faggot.” Levi hisses with a frown.

He’s thinking out loud... And Eren takes this rare opportunity to stay quiet as he watches him.

So that’s it, huh? That’s why he punched him when he’d tried to kiss him. Levi’s revolted by the idea of men being involved with one another. Is this why he got rid of Jean?

The moment of self-reflection is lived shortly as Levi seems to blink himself from his thoughts and instead turns his head to eye Eren up and down.   
He appears tense, eyes dark and lips thinned.

“ Are you afraid of me? ”

A solid question.

Of course he is afraid of him. Levi isn’t just a murderer,he seems sadistic alongside this as well.He’d teased the woman, had toyed with her by using words and body-language. It reminds Eren of how he’s been handled by Levi. The man’s always been crudely playful in an aspect that isn’t obvious to the eye, but greatly to the subconscious.   
It’s hard to tell what had been imagined and what had been real, but despite his own demented mind, Eren’s always felt like he was being played by Levi. Like a puppet on strings, dancing on the man’s stage, for the man’s entertainment.

The problem with these mind-games is not only his own mental health deteriorating, but moreover the uncertainty of what his story’s ending will be. It’s clear now that Levi’s been writing his chapters, and it’s obvious that Levi will be the one to define the last page’s content.  E ven if it’s Eren’s story at heart, he’ll never be allowed to have a look at it before it’s been approved by the man himself.

So, does that scare Eren?

Sure.

But is he sitting here, allowing their knees to touch, thinking back to all the physical contact shared between them in the past –defining only one occurrence in which  Levi’d hurt him and it’d been his own damn fault for having been so brazen-?

Certainly.

So, the answer is undefinable. There’s no black, there’s no white. Eren wonders if Levi’s written his pages in those binary colors or if he’s put use to some grays, some corrections here and there. Changes of mind.

“Do you think I should be?” Is the boy’s returned question.

Levi’s eyes roam the boy’s features momentarily, apparently surprised by the question as he chews over the answer.   
The left corner of his mouth curls up in his typical gloating smirk. There’s cruelty to it, but moreover does Eren find his stomach fluttering at the attraction he feels.

“It depends on what you want and what you do.” Is Levi’s reply. Vague as ever.

“Like when I tried to do something I wanted and you ended up punching me?”

“Exactly.” Levi agrees before he glances out the window, reminding Eren of the corpse drowning in the rain.

“She found my notebook. She knew too much.” The man murmurs  the answer to the question Eren had asked a while ago  and  he follows his gaze outside at the woman’s body.

“What notebook?”

“If I’d show  you I’d have to kill you.”

Their eyes meet and a few seconds pass in which Eren’s heart skips a beat before Levi barks a single laugh.   
The hairs on the boy’s neck stand up at the creature’s odd sense of humor. At the inappropriate and robotic exclaim of amusement.

“You’re cute when you’re scared.”

“Is that why you licked me outside?”

Levi’s face falls at Eren’s question, seemingly disapproving of this being pointed out by anyone other than himself.

Control... Control is what this man craves and once Eren figures this out, he’s given a pen of his own to adjust Levi’s path himself.   
Or so he hopes... After all, it’s happened before that he thought he’d had a grasp on him but Levi never fails to surprise him, always manages to be a step ahead. Not to mention, knowing now that he is a murderer, it lifts the veil of him just being ‘creepy’. He’s a criminal and a sinner and likely will go to the world’s end to get what he wants.

“So why did you do it?” Eren asks quickly, giving Levi no time to get  pissed off at him, and looking back out of the window the minimize any hostile feelings that could be awakened by maintaining eye-contact.

“Dr. Zoe?” Levi queries, his gaze glued to  Eren’s profile.

“Like I said. She knew too much.”

“And Jean?”

A pause follows after this, seconds stretching into minutes in which the man’s knee seems to burn through Eren’s, in which the man’s eyes seem to drill through Eren’s skull.

“He tainted what is mine.” The man whispers and the boy can  _ hear  _ more than  _ see  _ the snarl on his features.

Immediately the boy connects the dots, knows the man’s not only claiming Eren but as well has murdered Jean plainly for having slept with him. It’s absurd, ridiculously possessive and it makes him question whether he could ever get away from him seeing he’ll kill anyone touching him. Or ‘tainting’ him, such as he’d put it.

“Don’t you want to overwrite his touch?” The boy asks, blinks rapidly as he’s surprised at his own question.

“Overwrite?”

Eren’s heart skips several beats when Levi turns  his entire body  to face him. It takes him a few deep breaths before he collects enough courage to meet his gray eyes.

“I assume you still find me tainted by him. So how am I to be cleansed?”

Though it could be imagined, Eren believes he can see the man’s eyes  widen  at his question. He might be walking on thin ice here. The man speaks in riddles, and apparently replying in similar fashion intrigues him to the point where he characteristically tilts his head sideways.

“After  all ... Are your hands not bloodied?” The teenager carefully suggests, watches Levi glance down at his own hands as he unfolds his fingers, bares his palms. The skin is pale, clean, but there has to be some degree of moral filth on them, right?

Unless he feels no guilt for what he’s done in the past.

“How could I wipe you clean with dirtied hands?” Levi asks, smiles slightly, though not in friendly fashion.

“I do not believe in the mental weight of guilt, Eren. There’s no blood on my hands because every murder has been justified.”

“By who?”

“Me.” Levi says with a frown, as if surprised Eren isn’t catching on.

Of course, this man would not be a religious one –unless to a defect- so the only person –deity- he has to be forgiven by is himself. Eren considers if Levi suffers from a god-complex. After all, he apparently has no problem in paving his own path with corpses which once were obstacles.

No scrutiny.

“If I’m the one to commit, then am I not the only one to blame or forgive?” Levi adds.

Eren doesn’t think so. There’s laws for a reason, there’s punishment for those lacking morals and there’s forgiveness for those depending on the judgement of others. Perhaps that’s where it’s at... This man is his own judge, does not give a single damn about what anyone or anything else might perceive him as.   
Not even Eren.

“To answer your earlier question, Eren.” The man gets up and Eren instinctively grows tense on his chair as Levi towers over him.

“On the day that I consume you, you’ll be cleansed.”

Curious and disturbed as he might be by his words, Eren doesn’t dare ask what he means with that. He’d hate to take the words literally, especially after the various dreams he’s had of this man cannibalizing him. But, going by how Erwin had been telling him hidden truths in his dreams... Had the Levi in his nightmares been acting on desires existing out here in the real world?

Watching the man turn around to leave, Eren grows anxious at the prospect of being left alone with a million questions like he’s been since he moved in here.   
This alone would explain why he gets up, yet hardly justifies why he’s bold –insane- enough to grab Levi’s wrist and spin him around.

He could’ve stopped him. Eren saw how his shoulders raised when he himself got up from his seat, saw how his head turned slightly when he’d stepped towards him, felt how the tendons in his wrist protruded as he’d folded his hand into a fist at the boy’s touch.   
Regardless, Levi lets him. 

Levi lets Eren turn him around, even allows him to grab his face roughly and no punch stops him from pressing his lips against the man’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all better be looking forward to the next chapter... if you know what I mean ;)


	28. Domineering Ministrations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: light physical abuse

Their lips have been pressed together in a frozen kiss for an eternity as Eren’s simply too afraid to move after what he’s done.   
Granted, Levi as well doesn’t move an inch, but the boy can feel his eyes on him. 

Eren’s trembling, frightened of what will happen once this marginal spell is broken. A nearby clock ticks, seems to grow louder as the seconds come quicker and quicker, urging Eren that something is going to break apart. 

When Levi does pull away and Eren –after opening his eyes- goes to apologize, a hard slap shuts him up before his words can reach his tongue. The impact is absurd in its power, causing the boy to see stars in his vision and feel the sting spread across his face in a wave of pins and needles.   
With balance shaken and ears ringing, Eren extends his arms as he’s become too disorientated, too dizzy, to find his bearings. 

Levi says something, in an angry tone, but his voice barely breaks through the sharp noise inside of Eren’s ears and for the life of him he can’t process the words. Apparently he should have, as –when no reply is given- an opened hand shoves itself against his throat and once more the world around him shifts. 

Eren grunts when his back is slammed against a wall and with eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched at the pain –the fear-, he awaits another slap to the face.   
Feeling Levi’s hand move down in order to seize him by the collar of his sweater, his shoulders pull up while the man tugs him down and then- 

Warmth connects with his lips and for a split second it feels forgiving, _kind_. Regardless, by the time Eren opens his eyes -finds a gray pair leering at him up-close- the man pulls away from the kiss and slaps him on the cheek again.   
Though the impact stings, it’s not severe enough to result in another dash of stars and the ringing in his ears that has quieted down some, doesn’t pick back up its volume. 

A welcoming calm follows suit. 

Levi’s hand, still wrapped in the knitted fabric of Eren’s sweater, loosens its grip, yet doesn’t let go. Eren stares at the man from which he’s held away at arm’s length, observes every inch of his face to find any answer as to what he should do or say.   
Dark eyes and clenched jaws betray anger. Loud, shaky inhales betray a rage suppressed. 

What _ is _he to do? 

“I’m sorry.” Eren whispers, his voice embarrassingly high-pitched and he can feel his nose prickle at the desire to shed tears. He’d been punched before, by more people than just Levi... But slaps... They’re quite something else, like being reprimanded rather than punished. Like he’d disappointed him rather than annoyed him. Demeaning. 

“Stop... doing... that.” Levi warns, emphasizes his words by swaying a finger in front of Eren’s nose, voice clipped because he’s out of breath even more so than Eren is. 

Eren can feel the hand in his collar tremble and a part inside of him –a part that has a death-wish or an instinct that can read Levi better than Eren’s conscious mind can- makes him reach up and wrap fingers around Levi’s wrist.   
The boy doesn’t tug away the hand, doesn’t try to pluck the fingers from where they’ve become tangled in the knitted wool. Rather, Eren grows bold –stupid- enough to brush his thumb over the man’s skin. 

All the while he does so, he watches closely, grows amazed at watching Levi battle with something inside of himself. 

Levi frowns, almost to a comical degree, as his eyes shift from where Eren’s caressing him to his face and back, repeatedly. However, no matter his intelligence or wit, the man seems to fail in finding out Eren’s intentions because he actually questions him out loud. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“I’m calming you down.” The boy explains –bluffs mostly as he’s acting on auto-pilot, hasn’t a clue as to how this man will react to a softer approach-. For all he knows, this might piss him off more. 

“Is it working?” He adds, pausing the movement to play safe, when Levi continues appearing confused. 

“Do it again.” Levi demands, nudges his chin forward as if taunting the boy. 

It takes Eren embarrassingly long before figuring out that the man hadn’t meant for Eren to rub his hand again.   
When he does find out, it’s not because Levi still looks... wild, undone. Rather it’s because the man goes ahead and tilts his head sideways ever so slightly, glances down at his lips. 

It’s incredibly puzzling that the man’s asking him, wordlessly, for a kiss. It’s absurdly nerve-wracking as well, considering that each attempt at a kiss so far has resulted in physical assault.   
Eren grows tense at the recapping of past experiences, his cheek burns along with his stomach, both because of different reasons. Whereas his skin aches at the violence it suffered, his gut grows heated at the arousal he finds within the knowledge that somewhere inside of the man, he does want to give this another try. 

With one hand tightening its grip on Levi’s wrist, Eren reaches out his free one. Fingertips brush over the man’s sharp jawline and both of them flinch at the physical contact. The connection sparks. It might be the thunder in the clouds or the lightning hidden behind, but there’s electricity in the air. More so inside of this room than out in the forest.   
Even nature seems to plead for Eren to not touch him. 

Likely on instinct, Levi buries his fingers deeper into the fabric of Eren’s shirt when the boy leans forward. Their lips don’t touch, the distance too great as Levi keeps Eren pushed against the wall. 

“Levi.” Eren urges quietly, lets his fingers wrap around the base of the man’s skull, his buzzcut surprisingly soft underneath his touch. 

With the man’s eyes glued onto his –face ominously expressionless- Eren pulls him closer while carefully plucking his fingers from the collar of his sweater.   
Surprisingly enough, it works somewhat. Eren finds himself holding the man’s hand in his, stuck between their chests as he leans down and –after a second’s hesitation- lowers his lips once more upon Levi’s. 

His heart flutters into his throat. The pressure lasts longer this time around. The touch is hot, yet dry, prude like a kiss shared between children.   
When no attack follows, Eren’s mind roams, reminds him of the body outside, reminds him of Levi being a man capable of murder, warns him that this creature would kill him without hesitation, without regret, were he to make the wrong move. 

And yet... 

It only results in the boy swallowing a moan, a sound that’s caused as much by fear as it is by arousal. Tilting his own head, gently trying to pry open Levi’s lips with his own, is the wrong thing to do and he should’ve known. 

The hand between them escapes and locks itself onto Eren’s throat, pushes forward so abruptly it results in the boy hitting the back of his head against the wall behind him.   
Instinctively, he squeezes his eyes shut, every muscle in his body tensing, his face pulled into a grimace. He awaits impact, but nothing follows. 

Prying open one of his eyes shows Eren that Levi’s watching him closely. The man licks his lips, gingerly with just the tip of his tongue and lets his mouth fall slightly agape as he inhales. It reminds the boy of a feline, absorbing the scent of a fresh prey by letting the smell coil and slither upon its tongue. 

Levi’s _ tasting _him. 

“Get on your knees.” Hoarse, disheveled, threatening. 

Though reminded of an execution, Eren obeys once the hand is removed from his throat. 

Levi seems to hesitate for a moment, one hand placed upon the wall against which he leans his weight, the other hovering at his belt. 

In a sense of disassociation, or perhaps plain disbelief, Eren finds himself focusing on the details of the man’s clothes this up close. The living room is dark, but he can still tell the buckle of the black, leather belt has been taken care of; spotless, shiny and heavy-looking. Even the man’s trousers lack any speck of dust on them, the color of them so deep it reminds him of the cabin’s hallways. The fit of them cling to his thighs, thighs which Eren never before noticed being this toned, thighs connected to knees which have touched his plenty of times before –but never enough.   
Levi’s legs, for the length of him, are surprisingly long. 

Letting his fingers slide across the polished leather of one of Levi’s shoes, Eren awaits whatever will come next. Part of him knows, of course, but the other fears he’s wrong. 

Still leaning against the wall –crowding the boy, towering over him- Levi touches his belt with his free hand.   
Eren watches, intrigued, how his middle-finger slides over the buckle. 

The teenager wants to ask him different things. Plenty of things that’d result in negative outcomes, undoubtedly. Eren wants to question Levi’s intentions, wants to tease him, taunt him. He as well wants to ask him if he’s planning to kill him now, today or tomorrow? 

A question he doesn’t want answered. 

Not yet. 

Levi’s hand wavers, hovers between his own pelvis and Eren’s face, before it reaches up and curls fingers into the boy’s hair. 

Taken by surprise, Eren can’t muffle the hitch in his breath when his head is tugged backwards; forcing him to meet the dark eyes above him. 

Though uncertain as to how he knows, Eren is aware he’s not supposed to speak. There’s something lingering inside of Levi, something that’s finally crept outside and is now trying to find its bearings. Speaking, or even moving an inch at this very moment would break the spell.   
Hence, the boy remains on his knees, keeps his eyes onto Levi’s which are distant as they gaze down at him. 

After clenching his jaws, shown by how the muscles inside of them pop out lightly at the corners, Levi lets go of Eren’s hair and instead hastily unbuckles his belt.   
The clanks are loud in the quiet room and Eren inhales the scent of leather as he takes a deep breath. 

The man’s hand is trembling as it drags down the zipper of his pants, unbuttons them, hooks a thumb behind the waistband of black underwear before tugging it down as well. 

Eren watches, transfixed, how pale skin and short black hairs are revealed before the man’s hand blocks his vision as it digs into the clothes. 

His stomach flutters and his brain seems to receive a gentle nudge, when Levi retrieves his arousal.   
Yet, no time’s given to Eren to appreciate its length, its veiny skin or its dark-pink, glossy head. 

Rather, the boy’s yelp is muffled when the man forces himself into his mouth, not awaiting the invite nor worried about the presence of teeth in the boy’s surprise.   
On instinct, Eren’s hands clasp the man’s thighs, yet they only press against them for a split second before his mouth falls open and he forces his throat to relax as Levi doesn’t wait to press deeper. 

It’s immediately gratifying. 

As his breath’s cut off, as Eren’s feels the tip of Levi press against the back of his throat, as he inhales shakily through his nose and closes his tearing eyes, his mind goes quiet and Levi goes still. 

Rain tapping against the windows, wind sweeping through the cracks of the house, the overhead clock’s ticking, all of it dulls out into a world so far away from the cocoon Eren finds himself inside of with Levi. A cocoon of heat, the scent of skin and Levi’s aftershave cradling him, the gentle sound of rustling clothes, the clink of the belt-buckle moving along with the man. 

And his voice... 

Levi’s trembling, heavy breaths lingering above the boy on his knees. Eren can hear that Levi’s dipped his head, likely is watching himself disappear between his opened lips.   
And it’s all so disarming, so human, that a wave of bliss washes over him. Logically speaking, Eren knows it’s the arousal in his body, the endorphins in his brain lying to him that in this moment he is experiencing a happiness purer than any he’d gone through before in life... Yes, he knows this, but his heart –even his gut- grows warm and mellow; allows him to be embraced by denial. 

The denial of blowing a man of vilest caliber. 

But he doesn’t sink his teeth into him. Doesn’t push him off either. 

Eren only exhales in a cough when Levi pulls out, letting the head of his cock rest against the boy’s bottom lip. 

A few seconds of stillness pass by and Eren is surprised that Levi pauses to let him catch his breath. How... nice of him.   
The compliment given to a man who’d minutes earlier slapped him, would taste bitter in the back of the boy’s mind. Regardless, the bliss stretches on, makes his entire body tingle when Levi slides himself back into his mouth.   
He tastes clean, yet heady, on Eren’s tongue. The flesh underneath velvety and hot skin is hard; erect to such a degree it makes Eren wonder when exactly Levi had started growing inside of his pants. Had it been at the first kiss? Had it been when he’d slapped Eren? Or had it happened just now; watching Eren on his knees for a few minutes? 

The question couldn’t be asked even if Eren had wanted it to, for his mouth is stuffed. 

Like before, Levi only pushes inside, presses his head until it can’t move any deeper and then holds the position while panting softly. 

Eren’s left to force his mind to relax, to not have his lungs urge him to push the man away and gasp for breath.   
Blinking away a few stray tears caused by taking Levi this deeply into his throat, Eren gently digs his fingers into the man’s thighs. His intention isn’t to warn Levi that he’s craving oxygen. Rather, it’s a self-indulgent act of prodding the man’s muscles, turning himself on by the strength he can feel in them. 

Levi’s been attractive to him pretty much from the start. His hallucinations and the man’s creep-factor, however, had blinded him for quite some time. Even in previous moments, catching himself growing attracted to Levi, Eren had tried to brush it aside; blamed it on teenage hormones. 

But it’s more than that. 

It has to be... Considering what Levi’s done... What Levi is; something morbid, something cursed. 

Something _ Cruel _. 

Pressing his tongue against the cock inside of his mouth causes it to twitch, the movement accompanied by a hiss inhaled through Levi’s teeth.   
Fingers find their home between the strands of Eren’s hair and the boy feels himself growing light-headed either by the lack of air or because of how Levi’s grip tightens enough to have his scalp sting. 

Assuring the back of Eren’s skull stays pressed against the wall by holding him in place, Levi slowly pulls out, a hitch of a moan disrupting his long exhale. 

“Put your hands behind your back.” Levi commands, his voice so raspy one would believe he’d been the one who got deepthroated. 

Eren, once more, obeys without second-guessing anything. He allows arousal to rule him and with hands clasped behind him, his back arches slightly. 

“Why aren’t you afraid...?” Levi’s question, though directed towards Eren, isn’t voiced for the return of an answer. He’s spoken a thought out loud, sounds confused, amazed... In awe, even. 

Despite his desire to glance up and have a look at the man, Eren keeps his eyes on the cock staring back at him. It’s glossy with his saliva, it bounces lightly in excitement and Eren’s mouth waters. The ache in his knees, the numb sensation in his legs, the strain on his neck, nothing ruins the hunger. None of it manages to will down the hardness in his own pants; trapped, hot. 

Eren’s mouth eagerly opens wide once Levi angles himself to enter and this time around, it slides in more quickly. The force behind the thrust takes Eren by surprise, he gags, needs to cough, but has to do so around the meat inside of his mouth.   
As expected, Levi doesn’t move. Stays in place as Eren chokes on him for a few seconds longer before he’s able to swallow down his spit and calm down. Exhaling through his nose loudly, the boy grows embarrassed, as if he’s done something wrong. 

Levi doesn’t give him feedback other than a short hum. 

Approval? Excitement? 

It sounds positive, right? 

Splaying his fingers across the boy’s scalp rather than have them tangled in his hair, Levi pulls out, leaves the tip crowned between lips before shoving back inside.   
Faster and harder than before, Eren again gags but quickly collects himself by squeezing his eyes shut and inhaling deeply through his nose. 

“Swallow.” Levi says quietly as he pushes deeper. 

Eren chokes, almost goes as far as to unfold his hands from his back to shove Levi off, but an absurd craving for approval forces him to suffer through it motionlessly. 

“Swallow, Eren.” Levi repeats as he chokes Eren entirely with how deep he presses his cock inside of his mouth.   
The teenager can smell the heady musk of his pubic hair, inching closer and closer towards his nose. 

When he does swallow, the boy’s as surprised as he’s impressed when the head of Levi’s length is sucked down the back of his mouth into his throat.   
It’s an odd sensation; stretching and pressing, suffocating and filling. 

But Levi groans, scrapes his nails over Eren’s scalp, and his cock twitches repeatedly. And this makes it so damn worth it. 

This time around, when removing himself, a loud slurp accompanies the movement and Eren coughs as he catches his breath. 

By the time Eren opens his mouth widely, ready to receive his length, Levi takes a step back, leans down and cradles the boy’s face between his hands.   
Their eyes meet and Eren feels himself blushing furiously, snaps his mouth shut. Expecting a kiss, Eren’s only momentarily confused when Levi gently manipulates his head until the back of it is flush with the wall behind him. A thumb brushes over the boy’s chin before it tugs downwards, forcing him to open his mouth once more. 

“Stay.” Levi whispers, leers at him for a second longer before he straightens up, steps forward and plants his forearms above Eren against the wall. 

As Levi moves forward, angling himself, Eren sticks out his tongue; having the tip touch the man’s cock to serve as a guide towards his mouth. 

Entering forcefully, Eren gags, his body trying to curl results in his head moving away from the wall it was leaning against. With haste, he moves backwards to his previous position, barely on time as Levi pulls out swiftly and thrusts back inside. Levi repeats the motion, starts up a rhythm. 

It’s oddly claustrophobic. Being fucked in the face while he’s on his knees and his hands are pulled behind his back. It results in an anxious sensation of not being able to escape; restrained and crowded by a figure forcing itself on him.   
His stomach flutters and every other thrust into his throat has him cough or gag. Yet, Eren maintains his stillness as best as possible, focuses on the pounding of his heart and on the sounds falling from Levi’s lips. 

The man seems to grow even more, in size and temperature and Eren makes sure to slather him with saliva each time he pulls out partially. There’s a craving to meet him halfway, a desire to force himself on his cock until his throat is ruined. This bizarre need to impress him. 

But Levi told him to stay... Like he told him to swallow. 

Remembering the earlier demand, Eren swallows him on the next entry. It makes Levi pause, it makes him exclaim a curse muffled within a huff, his entire body shudders for a split second. 

“Good...” Levi mumbles to himself as he pulls out slower than before. Slides back in harshly. Eren swallows him and if he didn’t know any better, he’d believe Levi suppressed an amazed scoff. 

“Just like that.” The man adds in a whisper and he moves his hips away once more, shoves inside roughly. This time around it’s too sudden and hard for Eren to swallow, and the boy gags, yet collects himself within seconds. 

He would’ve never guessed this man to be talkative during acts such as these and it makes him ponder about previous lovers. Did Levi ever have sexual relations with another male? Was he this controlling with previous partners? Was he this talkative with lovers? 

The pace picks up, as does the force behind the man’s hips and it doesn’t take long before Eren begins to feel overwhelmed. Running out of breath as he is, he’s forced to suck in air the second Levi pulls out, but the rhythm is so fast that his breathing becomes shallowed, his lungs barely expanding with the minimum amount of oxygen dragged into them. 

On the next pull, Eren tries to say his name, but Levi shoves himself back inside before he’s able to form the letters.   
Eren’s shoulders ache with his arms being pulled behind his back, and there’s a prickling sensation within them to urge him to move his limbs. They whine at him to rest his hands into his lap or squeeze his own sore thighs for the sake of holding on to reality. 

When Levi’s been pounding into his mouth until his throat hurts and his lips are swollen, Eren begins to panic. What if Levi won’t stop? What if he doesn’t care about Eren’s wellbeing? Could he choke to death on a cock? How fucking absurd of a death would that be?! 

Not able to stop himself any longer, Eren brings up his hands, plants them against the man’s hipbones and he tries to shove him off.   
It only urges Levi to fuck into him harder. 

“No.” He stretches out the word, as if warning a dog that’s about to misbehave. It’s disgustingly demeaning and Eren’s stomach flutters.   
And even now, despite every fiber inside of him urging him to move away his head, or bite down on the flesh forced into his mouth... The teenager only proceeds to choke on his own spit and Levi’s cock while digging his nails into the fabric of the man’s pants. 

Just a little longer. 

It’ll be okay. 

Just a few more thrusts. 

Levi must sense how lightheaded and stressed Eren’s become because he finally pulls out even though Eren could feel him twitch only seconds ago, the telltale warning of him having been on the border of climax. 

Doubling over, Eren catches himself from faceplanting by placing his hands onto rough floorboards. He pants, ends up wheezing as he pounds his chest with a flat palm. The rush of fresh air nearly causes him to pass out, the entire room spinning as the sound of his own coughing fit is vague and dull in his ears. 

It takes him worryingly long to recuperate, but by the time he does, he’s too embarrassed to look up at the man standing in front of him; waiting, the toe of his shoe tapping onto the floor right next to the boy’s hand. 

“Sorry.” Eren rasps, before he shakily folds his legs underneath him, restrains his own hands behind his back and sits up against the wall. 

Not even the subsiding anxiety or the pain in his throat can stop a hot flash from washing over him when he sees Levi’s cock in front of him –still hard, slick with his spit- leisurely being stroked. 

As Levi masturbates lazily in front of him, Eren gratefully uses the time given to him to inhale deeply, scraping his throat every now and then, sniffling as his nose had gone runny from the tears spilled. 

The man leans sideways slightly, bending at the waist, before he reaches over with his free hand. Instinctively Eren flinches before Levi wipes his mouth and chin clean from his saliva. The movement is rough and when Eren starts to consider it as a helpful act, Levi proves him wrong by wiping his hand onto the front of the boy's shirt. 

“Ready?” Levi asks while he now strokes his sticky fingers through Eren’s hair. 

Reveling momentarily in the weight of the man’s hand on top of his head –even though knowing he’ll use it as leverage to hold him in place while fucking his mouth and choking him again- Eren inhales a few more times while gazing at him from the corner of his eye. 

Levi’s expression is unreadable, though there’s impatience in his voice. 

Eren nods and with that Levi straightens back up, eye-contact broken. 

The blowjob, this time around doesn’t pick up slowly. The man continues where he left off and Eren –though aroused- finds himself craving for it to end. His body is tired, as if run over by a truck, and this alone is enough reason for him to follow the man’s cock whenever he pulls out; speeding things up. 

Sucking him and putting his swirling tongue to use seems to be welcomed as Levi grunts lightly with every thrust, goes faster whilst clasping the back of Eren’s head in both hands.   
Tightening the pressure on his own hands which remain clasped behind his back, Eren forces down the desire to gag, moves his head enough for Levi to finally let him take over. 

As the grip on his head loosens once Levi figures out Eren’s fucking himself onto him rather than the other way around, the teenager grows bold –impatient- enough to unfold his hands and reach up with one. 

Levi hisses once Eren wraps his fingers around the base of his cock; granting his throat some rest while his mouth and hand do all the work.   
The man removes one hand, leans against the wall and Eren can feel him watching him. 

Opening his eyes, Eren finds Levi once more bent over slightly to the side, his head tipped, eyes dark as they’re focused solely on the boy’s mouth and how his own cock disappears into it. Levi’s lips are parted, his brow furrowed and the sounds he’s making are mind-blowing. 

Eren can’t help but moan around his length, turned on incredibly by seeing this man unravel right here with him.   
Human. Not a monster. Just a man chasing his desire down into a boy’s receptive heat. 

“Yeah...” Levi agrees mindlessly with the kid’s moan. Nods slowly, twice, stroking fingers through Eren’s hair before they slide down his cheek and onto his throat. 

As Eren moves forward, taking in his length, Levi’s fingers brush across his Adam’s apple. When pulling off until only the head is left between his lips, the man strokes his chin, thumbs at the corner of his mouth, likely to feel it stretch once Eren takes him in again. 

The gentle touch of his fingers vanishes after another few bops of Eren’s head and when glancing up, it shows Levi squeezing his eyes shut, teeth clenched and lips pulled back slightly as if in pain. 

He’s close. 

Another moan escapes Eren’s sore throat as he picks up his pace, slurps Levi's cock as if his life depends on it. 

There’s a hint of sweat lingering between them, a smell of saliva and warmth intoxicating the boy. The man tastes better than he could’ve imagined. Nothing special... yet, the smell of Levi's soap, the heat radiating off his skin, the clank of his belt and his voice growing higher in pitch as his panting increases its pace... It’d be enough to push Eren over the edge within seconds were he to reach down into his own pants. 

“Eren-” Levi grunts his name, buries his fingers into the boy’s hair before folding them into a tight fist. 

Eagerly, impatiently, Eren slides his mouth over his length quicker, flicks his wrist slightly each time his hand moves up the man’s shaft, the side of his finger continuously pressed against his top lip to elongate the sensation of blowing him.   
It’s slick, spit dripping from Eren’s chin and fist, and the mere combination of squelching and Levi’s rumbling hum drives Eren mad. 

The man meets him each time Eren sucks him inside. He slides his hand to the back of Eren’s head, his other once more on top of it, cups his skull before taking over like before. 

His body doesn’t even have time or energy to cough when Levi shoves himself back into his throat repeatedly at a rapid pace. Making sure to open his mouth widely and relax his throat as much as possible, Eren stares up at the man towering over him.   
Though it hurts his forehead to have his eyes rolled up this much, the boy refuses to look away when Levi meets his gaze. 

As he fucks his mouth, Eren watches Levi’s lips part, watches that frown deepen, watches those gray eyes flutter as it takes him effort to keep them open while reaching climax. 

And he does. 

Despite having expected it, Eren’s taken by surprise when the man’s movements hitch and he comes to a shuddering halt after shoving himself so deep inside that the tip of Eren’s nose touches the short, black hairs at the base of his cock.   
Eren can feel the man’s length pulse, feels it twitch against his throat and experiences heat pouring down his throat.   
Gulping it down turns out to be difficult with the head of the man’s cock shoved down deep enough to stretch open his esophagus. Yet, he manages, though awkwardly and noisily, his own body shifting as it tries to gag. 

Levi, merciless Levi, holds him in place for as long as he needs. He doesn’t seem bothered by the boy sputtering around his length and with head thrown back, rides out his orgasm with shallow movements of his hips. 

When he does pull out after Eren’s ready to either pass out or choke on his own spit and whatever’s left of the man’s seed, he does so with a hiss, sucking air through his teeth. Their eyes meet shortly through the process before Eren is allowed to topple into a coughing fit as he once more falls forward onto his hands and knees. 

Vision blurry because of the dark in the room and his own tears, Eren listens rather than watches for movement.   
While his hacking settles down, Eren hears the buckle of Levi’s belt clank as the man fastens it. Levi’s clothes rustle, his breathing is still somewhat heavy, the leather of his shoes creak along with the floorboards when he steps away. 

When he does glance up, Eren finds the man leaving the living room altogether. 

‘Oh...’ Is the teenager’s first thought. 

Ignoring his own arousal, Eren slowly sinks back into reality. Though the blowjob hadn’t been a hallucination whatsoever –as proven by the bitter taste on his tongue and the rasp in his throat-, perhaps his emotions revolving around it were. 

How had he enjoyed it that much? How had he forgotten so easily about what had happened today? How had he been able to disregard the body outside; disposed of onto mud, soaked by rain, frozen by not only death but the chilly season? 

How... Since when and for what reason had Eren become this immoral? Since when had he become this cruel, poor excuse of a human being? Since fucking when has Eren put his physical attraction for someone above the morals he –and every other normal human being- believes in? 

And that’s it, isn’t it? 

‘Normal.’ 

Eren’s anything but normal. 

Perhaps Levi’s curse spreads around. Perhaps the man’s intoxicated him, doomed him. 

Perhaps evil is contagious. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ............... :')


	29. Cold Desks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some light dub-con near the end of the chapter.

The bedroom appears large, despite it being shrunk down by the lack of light and the absence of any color differentiating itself from the theme of earth tones.   
Eren’s never before seen Levi’s bedroom, but he can identify it easily by inhaling the air alone. His aftershave lingers, having failed to escape through the door left ajar.   
Eren’s never before known the door to have been unlocked either.

And he’d tried. Plenty of times. Even when not aware of what had been behind it.

Walking inside slowly, the boy makes sure to close the door behind him, locks it with the key left inserted.   
Swallowed by shadows, alone, with only a single tiny window to let some cloudy daylight creep inside, Eren reminds himself of something peculiar.

He hadn’t hallucinated all day.

From the moment he’d gotten up after a nightmare-less night, from his morning shower and half-eaten breakfast, from hiding from the strange woman to watching her corpse outside... From the kiss to the blowjob.

Nothing.

Glancing around, on edge, Eren expects to see _anything _out of the ordinary; closets left open, yellow eyes peering from the corners of the room, fingers beckoning him to glance underneath the bed.   
Yet nothing occurs.   
Even when listening for hissing voices or heavy breaths, scratching nails or pounding footsteps, only the sound of the rain outside accompanies his solitude inside Levi’s bedroom.

Gingerly, Eren prods the mattress of the man’s bed with the tips of his fingers. He pushes repeatedly, the springs underneath squeak. Sitting down on the edge of it, the boy stares out in front of him, replays the day over and over again.

_‘You’re dealing with this knowledge peculiarly well.’_ Levi had said to him earlier that day. It had sounded like an accusation, as if he’d mocked him for his lack of empathy. As if he thought Eren wasn’t shocked out of his mind knowing this man had killed people.   
But, had he truly meant it in that fashion or did Eren read into it because he’s feeling guilty with exactly how well he’s actually dealing with this?

It might even be a combination of both, knowing how much Levi enjoys toying around with him .

The man had also mentioned how the lady had had to be killed because she’d been a ‘threat’. A threat of getting him into prison, would be the likely explanation. But there’d been weight to his words and the same logic cannot quite be matched up to why Jean had been murdered.   
As far as Eren knows, Jean hadn’t a clue as to who or what Levi was. All Jean knew about him was the few times Eren had mentioned him to him.

The ‘threat’ in this case had been his ability to spoil Eren for Levi. The man had confessed this himself, had told Eren that Jean had tainted him.  _ Dirtied him _ .

Which really raises the disturbing question; what are Levi’s intentions with the teenager?

‘ _ On the day that I consume you, you’ll be cleansed. _ ’ Levi’s confession echoes through the boy’s skull.

The man’s definition of consume could be as vague as the rest of him. Though, it could be as literal –as visceral- as the ugly side revealed to him today.

Swallowing, Eren tastes mint from the toothpaste he’d used minutes ago; brushing his teeth furiously while he’d showered away his own arousal underneath freezing water.   
There’s a dirty feeling to him. Not in a good way either.   
It’s comparable to a sense of shame, gnawing embarrassment. Not for what he’s done, but for when it’d been done.   
Had they been intimate even a few days ago, Eren is certain he wouldn’t have felt this disgusted with himself.

Why had it happened today?

Is it coincidental?

Or is it the energy in the air, palpable and threatening; exciting? Even with Levi’s crude behavior somehow translating to flirtation, Eren was the one who’d stopped the man from leaving.   
Eren’s the one who spun him around and kissed him.

It should’ve ended after that first kiss, after that first –ear ringing- slap to his face.

But then Levi had taken the initiative, yet it hadn’t seemed like a free choice, nor a conscious one at that. The man had appeared unhinged, enraged, fueled by a sexual arousal which in turn had been sparked by- well... by what exactly?   
The killing. Surely.

A shiver urges Eren to get up from the bed, move around and put some use to his stiff limbs. His knees still ache, as does his throat, which he scrapes gingerly while walking towards the only window in the room.

Gazing outside shows him a world swallowed by rain. The downpour is almost as violent as what had taken place here today.

Glancing down, Eren’s stomach grows queasy when seeing a figure clad from head to toe in black creep towards the woman’s body still left outside to freeze and rot.

Eren knows it’s Levi –even with the hood of the jacket drawn up- recognizes it by how he walks and by the shape of his body. Not to mention, who else would be coming from the cabin and squatting down next to the corpse so nonchalantly?

With Levi’s back towards him, his body blocks Eren’s view from the woman’s face and shoulders. The man’s arms move, though stay close to his body and there’s a repetitive motion to them. It’s clear he’s doing something, but Eren can’t even begin to imagine what that is.   
It takes not more than a minute or so before he seemingly discards of something in the breast-pocket of his jacket before he gets up, bends over and takes a hold of the woman’s hands.

Rain picks up and Eren hastily slides up the window which has started to distort the sight outside by water drops plastering against the glass.   
Wind immediately sweeps inside, specks of rain hitting the boy in the face, but Eren’s too disturbed –intrigued- by Levi’s actions to recoil. 

Wiping his face hastily, Eren leans his hands onto the window sill, moves forward as he squints his eyes and peers outside.

Watching Levi drag the woman through mud, his gloved hands pitch-black against the pale skin of her wrists, fills Eren with a sensation never experienced before.   
The sight of her, strands of black hair swooped across her face in a veiny pattern, her head lolling harshly as Levi moves her.

_ ‘She should be stiff by now.’ _ Levi’s words chime through his head.

Eren isn’t familiar with the timeline of a person after death but witnessing how her arms dangle when Levi wraps his around her chest is as disturbing as the sight of her completely frozen over would’ve been.

The man wrestles her body into her car.

Salt hits Eren’s tongue when he licks rain from his lips, betraying to him that he’s shedding tears as he watches this man shove her hard-handedly into the backseat.   
The rain is so heavy –violent- that even the sound from car-doors being slammed shut doesn’t reach the boy’s ears.

When Levi turns around to walk back to the cabin, he looks up, pauses.

Their eyes meet and Eren wonders if the man can see that he’s crying as much as he can see the indifference on his features.

Heinous.

The devil continues on its path.

* * *

The terror comes later.

When Eren lies in bed at night, it’s then that his thoughts crack open his skull, spill onto the floor and spell out to him that he has to run.

The boy grows queasy when recalling what he’s done. When remembering not only sucking off a man who’d killed a human being only hours prior, but as well how he’d stolen the woman’s keys. How  Levi ’d convinced Eren , within minutes after her pulling up to the house, that she had to disappear.

How Levi had discussed with him how Jean had  t o vanish and Eren would have to help him with making it seem like he’d run from home.

How  he him s elf had s nuck into Jean’s room... packed a bag with all of his personal belongings after rummaging through countless drawers. He’d even taken the stash of cash his friend had told him about; taped against the bottom of a drawer.

How Levi had told him he’d burned Jean’s corpse until skin peeled off, revealed pearly white bone, until he was shriveled and pitch-black.   
The creature leaving black prints in the house; Jean.

Moreover, the story about Erwin; Levi’s adoptive brother. The story about his adoptive father.

How he’d killed both of them. Erwin with a sledge-hammer. The hole in the back of Erwin's head; a confession by Levi spilled to Eren, allowing the image to be conjured up into Eren’s subconscious, play out in hallucinations.

All these memories Eren didn’t even know he possessed play in front of his eyes, drawn upon the floorboards by  metaphorical brain matter that’s escaped his prisoned mind.

There’s still scenarios plucked from thin air, like the wolf in the forest and the blood-soaked creature he’d seen in school. Where he’d gotten these imageries from is unknown to Eren, but he’s certain that if there’s logic behind them, he’ll remember one day.

Even the voice under his bed and the voyeur in his closet might not have been made up after all. What if Levi’s been living in his room with him this entire time?   
It wouldn’t surprise him, not anymore... After what Levi’s done, after knowing what he’s capable of, after the confirmation of the man having at least _some _sexual attraction or craving directed towards Eren... Who’s to say he wasn’t the devil that held him through nights in which Eren found himself in bed, incapable of moving?

A shuddering inhale allows Eren to sit up, swing his legs off the bed and stare at the floor. Guts are splattered across the wooden boards, they writhe as if alive and though not exactly curling into letters, Eren finds himself seeing his friend’s name in the mess of intestines.   
The guts and the heart in his bed... had they been real? After all... He’d found that single brunet hair in the bathroom, close to the washing machine... A hair of Jean’s?

It makes sense.

It makes so much sense now.

Blinking causes the spilled insides to vanish from sight and Eren’s left staring at nothing.

Eren’s heart pounds loudly in his chest, the aggression behind it a contrast with how gently his body rocks with the force from it.

Why is he remembering now?

Because he’d seen the woman’s body? Because the evil has been confirmed? It’d been confirmed early on... By Levi himself, yet Eren’s mind had conveniently forgotten all about it.   
What else isn’t he recalling just yet? What other secrets has Levi whispered into his ear at night, restraining him in bed with a solid, unkind embrace?

But then, what about the hospital? Had that even happened? Why had he been so... So _different_? Does the man have two sides to him or does Eren’s mind have two opinions of him?   
The embrace -there- had been kind... The conversation; incredibly frustrating. He’d mentioned Eren was ‘sick’ but that ‘they’ were ‘fixing’ it. The teenager still doesn’t know who ‘they’ are. Let alone does he have a clue as to how he’s being fixed in this very moment. 

Although... His memories are returning. His hallucinations are fewer in occurrence...

Medication? It’d explain his dry mouth and the artificial taste lingering on his tongue in the mornings. More over it’d explain his drowsiness at nights.   
Has Levi been drugging him?

It could only be done through food and drinks, surely... So... Is that why his mind grows more demented the less he eats?

Not aware of his breathing, Eren finds himself shaken from thoughts only because he’s beginning to hyperventilate. 

He’s panicking.

Of fucking course he is!

Getting up quickly, Eren bolts towards the closet, swings open both its doors. There’s no one inside but he still grabs handfuls of clothes, lifting the hangers from the bar before tossing them onto the floor behind him.   
He spins around, dashes back towards the bed. Falls down on his knees, checking under it. No one is there. Even after getting back up and tugging blankets and pillows off the mattress, there’s nothing there. No intestines writhing, no devil sleeping.

It’s only after having trashed the room –checking even drawers for something sinister hiding in them- that Eren sees it.

Right there, at the door.

The doorpost, to be more precise.

Black finger prints.

It’s back. The burnt one. Jean. Jean’s back, wants to show him something.

Knowing his subconscious is speaking to him, Eren follows the lead without hesitation; fearless.

His earlier plans for escape are forgotten. Eren figures that his mind –for once- needs to be trusted. After all, it’d been right from the start, just did a horrible job at showing him. It’s as if his conscious and subconscious speak entirely different languages and the only way to communicate to the other is by pictures, images and sounds.

Eren swings open the bedroom door. Expects Levi but sees nothing.

A glance down the hall shows only two foot prints, their shade the same as the one next to the door. Eren doesn’t even need to follow them however, he already knows where they’re leading.

The door to Levi’s office clicks  open quietly when Eren lays his hand upon the handle. When switching on the light, it flickers, breaks in a sharp pop. The loudness of it makes him hesitate momentarily before he reaches out his arms and stumbles inside. A few pats on the desk later, barely managing to not knock of f objects, the boy switches on the desk lamp.

Black prints, once more, are smudged upon the phone’s receiver and picking it up results in the same dead silence Eren heard before.   
Rounding the desk, he already knows where coal will be smeared; that is, across the bottom drawer.

This time around however, it is left  cracked open , unlocked.

Staring down at it, something urges Eren to leave the office. Something pleads with him to not bend over and reach out towards it. The darkness inside the drawer seeps out, shadows overflowing the wooden edges like smoke before they grow heavier, tar dripping from the space left ajar.

Eren watches, transfixed, as the oil strings down onto the floorboards, travels between the cracks until it reaches his bare toes. Like tiny fingers they tickle his skin, beckon him to come closer.   
His body, ruled by a subconscious, yearns to move towards the drawer. Yet Eren’s mind, the clarity left within it, warns him not to.

But truth’s hidden in the farthest corners, in the darkest rooms, hidden from sight until one is brave enough to venture to their secretive locations.

And thus, Eren squats down, opens the drawer further.

Within a split second the shadows disappear, as does the tar on the floor, and all the boy is left to witness is a plain, black note-book.

It looks familiar. Eren must’ve seen it before.

When picking it up, a hum quivers in his ears. It’s as pressing as the shadows in the room which grow denser as he glances around. Cocooned in darkness, feign orange light the only aspect allowing himself being connected with this world, Eren lets his fingers run over the spine of the book.   
It’s ridged, worn, informing him that it’s been opened countless of times. It’s thick as well, heavy, the pages not flush together, betraying the presence of some objects hidden inside.

The pulsating hum in his ears is accompanied by whispers, hissing words in a language he  cannot speak, a language that perhaps doesn’t even exist. Eren knows it’s warning him, threatening him the closer he gets to thumbing open the note-book to its first page.

Yet the creak of a nearby floorboard causes Eren to freeze. Startled as he is by the sound, the voices in his mind and the thickness of his surroundings evaporate immediately. Sitting quietly in the silence, Eren listens closely for the sound to repeat itself.

Which it does.

Coming from the hallway.

Grabbing the book tightly, Eren peeks over the edge of the desk he’s squatted behind, stares at the door he left wide open.   
Levi’s earlier threat slithers itself into the back of his mind... He had ‘joked’ about having to kill him were he to find his note-book... The same one the woman found; resulting in her death.

When another creak meets his ears, Eren calculates the distance and quickly gets up, turns off the desk-lamp and just when he’s about to round the desk to flee the room, a footstep betrays how close Levi is.

Too close. In the middle of the hallway. He can’t run there.

With his heart picking up its rhythm to a panicked pace, Eren ducks behind the desk, glances around for a place to hide.   
Another footstep.

Close r .

Eren plans to put back the note-book, but having bumped it shut with his shin as he’d gotten up just moments earlier... proves to result in a problem.   
The drawer’s lock is of the kind which automatically latches itself shut upon closing.

Cursing under his breath, Eren hears the footsteps nearing. Levi’s about to walk in.

When the office door’s hinges groan at being opened further, the boy bolts underneath the desk.

With  his  back pressed against the wood of the desk, note-book hugged against his chest and knees pulled up, Eren watches Levi pause at the entrance.

It’s dark, pitch-black nearly, but the boy can see the outlines of his long legs, can see the how polished the leather of his shoes are as they enclose his pacing feet.

Though almost his entire upper-body is out of sight as it’s hidden from Eren by the desk’s top, he can hear Levi try to flick on the light-switch. The office remains dark, even after he tries two more times before exhaling, annoyed.

When the man walks inside farther, Eren’s body tenses, readies itself to flee from  underneath  the desk and bolt out of the door. That is, until Levi closes  it  behind him, locks it... pockets the key in his pants.

_ He knows _ .

Levi knows Eren is in here.

There’s no other reason for him to lock the door and remove the key from it.

Eren listens closely to how Levi’s footsteps grow dull when crossing the small carpet between entrance and desk, the sound muffled. The heels of his shoes impact sharply once more, when stepping onto the floor, making way around the desk.   
His pace is sadistically slow, the weight put into his steps sadistically heavy.

Holding his breath, the boy grows tense –fingertips digging into the book’s spine- when Levi halts. 

The silence stretches on for so long that Eren starts to second-guess himself about Levi’s exact whereabouts. It feels like the man’s waiting for him rather than the other way around. Waiting for Eren to move a single inch; the catalyst to start a chaotic confrontation.

Peering into the darkness, in the general direction of where Eren believes Levi is at, he tries to see anything other than solid black. The moving shadows could be as much a trick  of  the eye as they could be the man crawling atop the desk.

The rustling of clothes disturbs the suffocating stillness inside of the office.

Eren knows Levi’s getting closer, can smell him nearby. Pressing his back against the wood behind him, the boy’s eyes widen in an attempt to see anything from where he’d heard him move.

Uncertain as to how the man locates him with ease, Eren’s left to gasp when he’s grabbed by the hair and snatched from under the desk.

The movements are fast and incredibly strong and there’s no time for Eren to do anything but yelp as he’s manhandled chest-down onto the desk. A hiss escapes the boy’s teeth when Levi roughly grabs the note-book from him before restraining his hands behind his back.

Though everything had passed within a few seconds, the stumbling and instinctive struggling leaves both of them panting softly.

The man moves, his lower-body pressed flush against Eren’s behind and for a split second –a second in which the boy’s stomach flips unpleasantly- he thinks the man’s about to sexually assault him. It’s a thought that, even when Levi takes a step away from him  after letting go of his wrists , doesn’t loosen its grip on his consciousness.

What if...

What if?

The desk-lamp flickers on and the boy doesn’t even try to look over his shoulder at the man, doesn’t even try to move his hands, instead gazing at the silver watch on Levi’s wrist. Midnight has passed a long time ago.

Levi sighs behind him, the chair creaking as he sits down in it. Fluttering of pages follows suit as he begins to look through the note-book he took from Eren.

What is he to do now?

Eren’s unsure as to how upset Levi truly is. After all, the silence between them weighs heavy, warns Eren to not break it. It’s been a ridiculously long day when looking back on it.  So filled with events that the teenager has a hard time accepting the passing of not even twenty-four hours since he’d woken up this morning.

Breakfast. Murder. Blowjob. 

Surely, Levi must be affected by today at least  half as much  as  Eren is.

Glancing over his shoulder, Eren observes a very calm, controlled Levi, flicking through pages as he’s leaned back in the chair, swiveling it gently from side to side.

“... Levi?” Eren tries, his voice quiet, his earlier trust in himself and rage against the day’s events forgotten.

Levi doesn’t reply, turns another few pages before he leans forward and slaps the note-book down loudly on the desk. The boy flinches.

Either Levi is upset with Eren for what had happened earlier in the living-room, or the man’s so transfixed into what he’s doing, he’s forgotten about him.   
Trying to stand up assures Eren it’s the first option as Levi clacks his tongue, raises one eyebrow, leers at Eren’s body rather than his face.

Eren stands there, bent over, chest on the desk and his hands behind his back, for an eternity as Levi writes in the book.   
Calming down over time, the boy dares to peel his eyes off of the man’s features and instead tries to see what he’s been doing for the past ten minutes or so. With his cheek on the desk, the angle doesn’t allow him to see anything other than black scratches on white paper. He can’t read the words, can’t see farther than the top of the page.

“My body hurts.” Eren complains softly.

Again, Levi doesn’t reply.

Exhaling in a sigh, Eren settles on observing his movements for the time being.    
As threatening as the silence had been before, and as eerie as Levi’s calm demeanor had been before... Eren finds himself relaxing into the stillness.

That is until the man seems to finish what he’s doing and , after disposing of the notebook in the drawer, gets up.

Growing  nervous immediately , the boy watches as Levi finally lets his eyes rest upon him. With his gaze lingering on the teenager’s body, Levi reaches out towards him. He pauses mid-air and Eren observes how the man folds his fingers to form a fist; holding back from touching.

“I saw your room.” He starts, his eyes gaze at the kid’s hands. 

“What about it?”

“It’s a mess. What were you looking for?”

Eren scoffs at his question.

“You, probably.”

“Me.” Levi says, pondering, eyes distant.

It takes him a few minutes before he seems to snap out of his thoughts and Eren’s body grows rigid when Levi plants his palm onto the small of his back. 

His skin is hot, easily burns through the layer of clothing on Eren’s back.

“You always seem to be looking for something, Eren. Have you noticed?” The man queries, his hand slides onto the boy’s, fingers fumbling slowly with his’.

“Like a dog chasing a car... Whatever will you do when you’ve caught it?” 

Not sure where this conversation is going, Eren focuses on the man playing with his fingers, tries to prepare himself for any sudden movement. After all, Levi had so easily dragged him from under the desk... So sudden, so unexpected. Unpredictable.

“You already know where I am, Eren. All you have to do is come get me. Stop looking for answers and  _ the truth _ .” He says the last two words mockingly.

“It’s relative, you know.” His fingers gently push Eren’s hands off his back, allowing them to rest on the desk.

“Like how beauty lies within the eye of the beholder.” Levi continues and Eren flinches, a startled high-pitched sound escaping his throat, when his fingertips travel underneath the hem of his shirt.

“So does truth lie within the judgement of the witness.”

Eren’s barely able to focus on the man’s words. If it weren’t for how Levi’s stroking his back leisurely, it’d be for how cryptic his words are without context.   
And that’s where Levi fails to connect with Eren entirely; lack of context. The man just rambles his views, allows no logic. He tells him endings of stories untold, expects the kid to put two and two together and end up with an incorrect result.

“You’re doing better.” Levi adds after a moment longer, stroking the boy’s skin.

“I am?” His own question is rather genuine. Eren’s been lacking hallucinations, has been figuring things out, but for all he knows it could be imagined. His delusions had convinced him in the past of being absolutely real. But looking back at them, now, they’d clearly been conjured up.

Or, is it the other way around? Is he only now so deluded that reality’s taken a new form? An even more convincing one.

“Yeah.” Levi replies, positions himself behind the boy, though his hips don't touch him.

Gazing over his shoulder, holding his breath, Eren watches Levi. The man pushes up  Eren’s shirt with both hands, before letting them stroke over his skin –heavily- on their way back down.

“What’re you going to do?” Eren whispers, growing more frightened by the second as he can see Levi is being consumed by the sight of his own hands stroking his back.

As expected, he doesn’t reply.

Thumbs travel underneath the waistband of Eren’s jeans. They linger, seem to consider whether or not to migrate towards the boy’s front.

“Did you look inside the book?” The man asks. Having stopped his movements, Levi stands almost awkwardly with hands resting on the boy’s waist.

“No.”

“You have in the past. Do you remember what’s in it?”

“No.”

“Your memory’s rather selective.” Levi mocks him in a light tone before stepping forwards, pressing himself flush against Eren’s behind.

Instinctively, the boy tries to scramble away, his fingers curling around the edge of the desk, hands framing his head as he goes to push off his weight and get up.

Levi pushes him down roughly.

Eren hisses at the force.

“Take it off.” Levi whispers, his voice hoarse, as he tugs the boy’s shirt once.

Though the teenager knows Levi will get upset if he doesn’t listen and though he is aware that only a short while ago he’d been fantasizing about being intimate with him... Despite all of this, he’s frozen in place. His heart is pounding so hard he fears the desk beneath him will begin to vibrate along with it. His mouth has gone dry and a cold prickling washes over his body as his blood-pressure drops before being pumped back into his system at full speed.

Eren’s breath hitches. His eyes wide as they stare unseeingly at the desk-lamp to his left.

“Hey.” Levi murmurs, flicks his finger against  Eren’s ear when he doesn’t react. The boy flinches at the sharp sting.

“I don’t want this.” The boy manages to whisper, glancing up at the man leaning over him.

Levi frowns lightly, pauses, then snorts in amusement.

“You don’t even know what I’m planning to do to you.”

“ _ To  _ me?”

The clack of Levi’s tongue is loud in the room and Eren watches his eyes flutter in an attempt to hold them back from rolling in an obnoxious manner. He’s annoyed.

“Just take off your shirt, Eren.” Levi commands softly before straightening up, his pelvis still pressed against him.

“ _ Now _ . Unless you want  _ me  _ to do it.”

Inhaling deeply a couple of times, Eren finds it within himself to pull his sweater over his head until it’s dropped onto the floor. The wood of the desk is cold against his bare chest and to stop himself from trembling, Eren digs his fingernails into the edge of the furniture.

With his forehead planted against the varnished surface, Eren exhales shakily, his breath leaving a damp stain beneath.

Unsure of what’s about to happen, he cannot urge himself to relax. 

The boy’s frightened, grows queasy, is so convinced Levi is about to hurt him that when fingers touch him, he jumps in his skin.

Levi hushes him. Not unkindly either...

Yet, Eren expects the worst. He expects the man to put a bullet into the back of his head, he expects for him to tug down his pants and force himself into him; fuck him until he’d be bleeding and wailing.

So, when Levi only ends up wrapping his arms around his chest and lie atop of him for the following hour, Eren’s as confused and disturbed as he is relieved.

Nothing out of the ordinary quite happens. The man doesn’t move other than at times readjusting his hold or switch which side of his face he’s resting between the boy’s shoulder-blades.   
Their breathing patterns end up matching in a calm rhythm that rocks both their bodies ever so lightly.

It’d be comforting if anyone but this man would be holding him. It’d be reassuring if there wasn’t a body stuffed into the backseat of a car outside of the cabin. It’d be grounding if it weren’t for the humming in Eren’s ears; so clear and near he fails to tell whether it’s imagined or if it’s Levi on top of him creating the rumbling sound.

It’d be innocent.

If it weren’t for how throughout the entire event, Eren can feel the man’s hard length press against the back of his thigh.


	30. Bared Identities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the continuous support on this fic.
> 
> More Levi POV, enjoy!

Contrary to what he’d hoped, Levi finds that plastering himself against the boy’s bare skin does not have them mend together in a mismatch of flesh and bones.

Rather, he grows homesick to his mother’s womb. Levi finds himself mourning the distance still left between them, even with his chest pressed flush against the boy’s naked back.   
Is it the fabrics? Should he just strip them both bare and squeeze Eren tightly enough to pulverize him? So he can smear him on his own skin, rub him into his pores until they’re one and the same; devil and human, chaos and delusion.

Mended into a shuddersome realism.

Levi exhales deeply, his lungs stutter. The rhythm reminds him of Eren’s heartbeat when he’d began this embrace; how it had fluttered so severely Levi had felt it tickle inside of his own chest. It’d made him hope they were sharing the same heart.

It has  settled now. It took a long time, but Eren’s  calm  now. His breathing is deep and rhythmic , even with Levi’s weight on him. His body is incredibly warm and to Levi –who tends to spend his life in a blanket of uncomfortable chilliness- it's welcoming beyond his own expectations.

Besides the adolescent’s temperature, Levi’s appreciative of how he hasn’t tried to put a stop to this. Sure, he’d been panicked before, had tried to flee before Levi had shoved him back on the desk. But that had been b ecause he hadn’t known... That had been before Levi wrapped his arms around him.

Now he appears almost as grateful as Levi is. Seems to enjoy it to a great degree –though likely nothing close in comparison to how much Levi’s reveling in their embrace-.

Levi turns his face, nuzzles the boy’s nape for what feels like the hundredth time that night, but it’s never enough. Eren’s  aroma  and heat are ungraspable. Similar to the scent of gasoline which can only be received through the sense of smell, never lingers long enough, and never quite hits the tongue in similar fashion when inhaling it.

It makes the man want to taste him so much more, to chase that heady touch of his. That teenage stench that has evolved into something far purer over time, like the kid’s degraded back to a childhood littered with innocence and accidental seduction.   
Or perhaps it’s Levi’s mind that’s grown deluded –absorbed Eren’s demented state- and now recognizes a passage to the past underneath the boy’s skin.

If he eats him... Will he be brought back to his own childhood? Is Eren truly that pure? Is he Levi’s portal to relive a life he’s never lived? A second chance, perhaps.   
A retake of his own play, in which he’s not born a murderer, but raised by a loving mother. In which he grows up to become a boring, average and dull man, married with three children, working a job he doesn’t care about.

An apathetic life, similar to his current one, but without everyone leaving him. Without cowards and traitors . Without  _ filth _ .

“Levi...” Eren whispers his name and though the volume is soft, the tone of it is distressed.

Of course... Why wouldn’t it be ?

Levi opens his mouth, lets go of the skin he’d clenched between his teeth without realizing.

“I’m sorry.” The man apologizes, is truthful about it as well as he hadn’t meant to consume him. Not yet . Laying his cheek on the kid’s back, atop his own spit and the beads of blood he’d drawn from him, Levi is reminded of how much he enjoys this boy’s company.

Levi likes walking in a world absorbed by Eren. The kid’s like a magnet, this entire cabin and forest sucked into whatever he stands for, whatever he is. Everything Levi perceives –by now- is affected by Eren. Like an addict, Levi finds his drug in all that he sees, feels, eats.

It’s lovely. Meaningful. And Levi wants to stretch this pleasure for as long and as much as it can last.

If it weren’t for this, well,  Eren  might’ve become the first one to die by his hands for the purpose of pleasure rather than necessity. It’s this pleasure, regardless, that as well causes him to hesitate.

The man shudders, holds Eren tighter until the boy groans quietly at the force.

“Will you run if I let you go?”

The question seems to have Eren halt in his breathing, the muscles in his shoulders growing stiff immediately. It’d cause Levi to become suspicious if it weren’t for how blissed  out he is.

“No.”

Levi unwraps his arms from the boy’s body, uncurls and winces at the soreness in his limbs from having kept the position too long.   
Taking a step back, Levi shivers at the cold creeping under his clothes from having removed himself from the teenager’s heat.   
The stiffness in his pants has settled down, though enough arousal is left to not allow Levi to look away from the boy lying chest down on his desk, bare feet atop the floorboards.

“You can get up now.” Levi assures, stares at the boy straightened up, as stiffly as Levi had. He rolls his shoulders, stretches lightly –too on edge to raise his arms entirely above his head while doing so-,  _ groans _ .

The boy turns around slowly, his head facing downwards, though Levi isn’t sure whether this is out of shyness or because he’s afraid.   
His body is long, slim and toned. The only baby-fat on him resides slightly in his cheeks and underneath the barely-there bump of his lower stomach. Other than that, Eren’s just one long piece of tasty flesh, stringy muscles and hard bones.

Levi licks his lips, catches Eren following the movement with exhausted eyes.

“Do you want to see the book... again?” Levi asks him. He wants him to remember. Though he’d shown Eren the note-book more than a handful of times before, he’d always been too sick to react, too sick to ever recall.

Eren audibly inhales, his shoulders rising up before he plays it off by leaning his hands onto the desk behind him, crossing his legs at the ankles, hips jutted forwards.

Seductive.

On accident?

“Wouldn’t that put me in danger?”

Another clever question. Eren’s good at those.

Taking a moment to stare at the boy’s naked skin, Levi considers his reply.

“If it were, something would’ve already happened to you after you saw it the first time.”

“Maybe I never saw it. Maybe you’re lying.”

Their eyes meet and something Levi’s learning to appreciate more and more is the balls on this kid.  An aspect not to be confused with arrogance and dominance, which Levi does in fact despise.

No. This is closer to courage. To having a belief and sticking to it, regardless of outside influences. To have a backbone... and an intelligence allowing him to pick his battles.

Eren had the balls today to not only kiss him, but suck him off after witnessing Levi murder another person.   
Now, what does that say about Eren? What does that say about the both of them as a unit?

To Levi, it’s rather charming in a sense. Flattering and reassuring, to know this boy will please him even after he’s done the worst. To know this boy’s brave enough to chase what he wants. To know that Levi is desirable enough to be wanted in the first place, even after all that he’s done.   
Eren never fails to surprise Levi when it comes to how unhinged he actually is.

The meds might cool down his delusions, but they sure as hell do not fix  his  fucked - up morals.

For this,  Levi respects him to a degree. Not something that comes easily from the man.

“The woman saw the note-book and she ended up dead. So why would I even risk it?”

It’s a solid concern. Every human being is rather obsessed with the image of life and staying in it. To Levi it’s different. Death seeps from his hands, transforms into smoke which slithers through his ears and eyes back into his brain. It’s a cycle that won’t end until his entire  system  stops functioning. Until he himself greets death and steps out of this world.

It doesn’t frighten him. And before Eren, there’d been nothing out here that made Levi crave to stay around longer than necessary. Carla would’ve been the end.

But Eren came along and though his work could be finished within hours -e ven less if he puts some brutality to it \- he wants to stretch the time between birth and death. Just Eren and himself are left. After they’re dead, that’s it. His story finished and concluded.

But there’s a problem with that... Being that as much as he wants to murder and eat him, he as well wants to maintain alongside with him; completely mold him to something he desires before taking that final bite.

But they have time... As long as cops don’t close in on Levi.

“You’re the one taking risks, Eren. Don’t you recall what I told you when you were about to stab me in the face with a fork?”

An almost fond memory, if Levi’s being completely honest. It’d been an obvious sign of the boy’s brain finally molding itself back into perceiving truths rather than scapegoats.

The boy’s eyes flicker down, as if embarrassed. 

Levi’s hands fold into fists, holding himself back from stepping forward and touching the teenager. As much as he’s come to appreciate the fight within him, the man can’t help but grow a hunger beyond carnal whenever Eren displays signs of uncertainty, doubt, weakness.

It could be so easy to ruin him.

“Why do you want to show me the book?” Eren asks, surprisingly ignores Levi’s question, Levi’s attempt at changing the topic. Interesting.

“I want to see if you’d react differently this time around.”

The boy’s mind is at the clearest it’s been since arriving here and Levi, in all honesty, can barely wait for them to connect over reality rather than dance around fantasies.

“Why does it matter?” Eren whispers.

‘ _ Because I want you to like me. _ ’ Is Levi’s immediate thought. ‘ _ All of me. The  _ ** _ real  _ ** _ me. _ ’.

“Just curious.” Is his dry reply before he steps towards the drawer to his left. As he squats down to retrieve the note-book, Levi could swear he saw the boy move in the corner of his eye. Regardless, by the time he gets up, the man sees an Eren unmoved; still leaning against the desk, staring at his own feet .

It’s remnants of his paranoia trying to crawl through the fog in his brain, a fog created by the possibility of Eren actually not minding his heinous ways.   
The possibility of Eren being the first person in this world to accept Levi. To _understand _him. To have a compassion beyond what Levi’s ever experienced before.

How dreamy that would be.

And with this hope in mind; Levi begins his life-story once more .

He tells Eren anew, as the boy’s clearly forgotten when he’d shared it with him  before .

Levi opens to the first page of the book, holding the back of it against his chest as he presents it to the kid while pointing out details on the page.   
He rambles, as he tends to do when talking about himself; like a little boy eager for approval.

The man shares with Eren how he’s murdered his own mother through childbirth, tells him about Erwin and his step-father. He even takes a step closer –excited- to show Eren the plasticized finger-tip of Jean.

“Because he touched you.” Levi explains, his lips curled up into a smile he hasn’t been able to suppress throughout the entire event. Eren must be proud of him for this, for how clever it was of him to decide to take his ex-boyfriend's finger-tip.   
Though when glancing up at Eren’s face, it shows the boy just staring at him with lips thinned and eyes rounded.

Well, that’s to be expected, of course. It’s a lot of information to take in. But he’ll come around. Eren likes Levi.

Unbothered, the man continues.  He shares with him how there’s a different tactic for every murder. A different piece of the body for each victim. How he’ll consume all of his victims at the end and be cleansed.

A pause occurs when he gets to Hange’s page. He taps the middle of it; a glaring empty spot.

“It’s still drying. The piece I took from her. Do you want to guess what I took? It’s rather ironic.”

Levi finds his own heart skipping a few beats as he awaits Eren’s reply.

The boy just stares at him, his eyes watery. He’s emotional. But why? He shouldn’t be sad over this. Levi doesn’t want him sad.  He didn’t even know Hange. He shouldn’t care so much. Or is he frustrated he doesn’t know the answer to Levi question?

“It’s okay. I’ll tell you. I took the tip of her nose. Because, she was nosy. Her curiosity is what got her killed. Like Erwin’s mind was what got him killed and  Jean’s touch was what got him killed, you understand, don’t you, Eren?”

Eren’s green eyes flick from Levi’s face to the book he’s holding and back. His lips are parted, as if short of breath, but he does end up nodding rapidly.    
Levi ignores the whimper Eren gulps down. Nerves, that’s okay. He’s still accepting Levi. He’s not running, he’s not accusing, he’s not disgusted.

Eren likes Levi.

“Okay. Okay. That’s okay. It’s no problem.” Levi whispers to himself, his voice shaking and his hands trembling as they skip through the last pages until they reach the  final  one.

This time, Eren does react. The boy pushes himself against the desk behind him, a hand reaching up to clasp over his mouth.

“No, no, no. Don’t worry. I don’t want to hurt you.” Levi assures as the boy stares at his own ID glued to the page, the drawing of two outreaching hands underneath.

“Not everyone in this book has to end up dead. Like- like your mother, Eren, look, see?” Levi hastily tries to comfort the boy as he scrambles through the book until finding Carla’s loose page.

“Y-you killed her?” Eren whispers after sliding his hand down to rest on his own throat, his voice high-pitched, his brows furrowed and chin trembling.   
Levi glances at the fingers wrapped around the kid’s slender neck. He grows absurdly jealous for a split second before reminding himself there’s a conversation going on.

“No. No Eren, that’s the point. I didn’t kill her. I wanted to. But I changed my mind. I can change my mind on these things, you know? Because I could never murder someone I respect, see?” Levi drops the note-book when spotting tears pouring down the kid’s cheeks.

Why is he crying? He just told him he didn’t hurt his mother. Why is he rejecting Levi?

The man reaches out, ignores how the boy tries to shake off his hands when he grabs his shoulders; holds tightly.

The boy once more cups his mouth and nose with his left hand, begins to sob, body shuddering and curling forwards until his forehead rests atop Levi’s shoulder.

Levi feels cold wash over him shortly before a warmth settles along with the boy leaning into him. The paranoid rage that had almost been induced by the kid questioning him makes room for immediate forgiveness. After all, Eren’s allowing Levi to hold him as he cries. He trusts him, after all.

Eren likes Levi.

“I’m starting to respect you, Eren... Isn’t that good news?” Levi murmurs into the kid’s ear , holds back from tasting him.

The boy’s sobbing settles down  abruptly , and for a second Levi believes he’s won him over entirely with just those few words. It makes sense to Levi, so why wouldn’t it to Eren? This boy understands him. Accepts him.

This beginning of trust is easily shattered however when the boy’s  right  hand finally emerges from behind his back. Not to embrace Levi. Not to stroke his face. Not even to push him off.

But rather, to bring down Levi’s glass paper-weight  –which he’d surely grabbed when Levi had been retrieving the note-book-  down onto the side of his head.

The pain is sharp, the jolt in his brain blinds him, and with a shout Levi feels himself fall down onto the floor.

Writhing in pain, gasping in shock, takes only a few seconds, but it’s enough for Eren to steal the key from his pants and make a run for it.

The cold returns.

The trust is broken. Respect buried six feet under.

Levi sits up slowly, stares at the small puddle of blood on the floor, watches drops drip down into it. Reaching up, he prods his temple, finds it throbbing to the touch.

“Traitor.” The man hisses through his teeth as he stares down at his now bloodied fingers. He rubs the tips together, watches the liquid smear, distort the pale tone of his skin; dirtied by another’s actions.   
Pulling himself up to his feet, with a hand on the desk, Levi stumbles momentarily before regaining balance.Wiping blood from his eye, Leviglares at the office-door left wide open.

“Traitor.” He repeats to the dark hallway, even though he knows the kid’s already outside by now.

It hurts.

Betrayal.

No matter how many times it’s happened to him, it still hurts. He hadn’t expected Eren to betray him, not like this. Levi has done nothing wrong, after all. Not to Eren.   
Levi’s been kind enough to let his mother live, Levi’s been kind enough to adopt him after his own parents gave up on him. Levi’s been caring enough to remove Jean after Eren had confessed he would rather have Levi touch him than Jean.   
Of course, the kid doesn’t even remember telling this to Levi... But he had, drugged out of his mind, after Levi had crawled into his bed, held him through the night. There’d been plenty of small confessions spilling from Eren’s lips whenever Levi had slipped him calming medicines to allow him to sleep with him and touch him, unbothered.

Confessions which had the man convinced that revealing his visceral identity to Eren would not chase him away.

Plenty of times he’d shared with Eren his story, shown him the note-book, told him how much he wants to eat him. And each and every time Eren had only gazed at him with wide eyes, had nodded as if understanding.   
Despite those moments, the day after Eren would’ve forgotten everything and it makes Levi wonder if he’d ever even processed the information in the first place.

Perhaps not... Considering that this time around he’d attacked Levi and ran away. So, this is the genuine reaction, then?

Levi rounds the desk, a hand remaining atop of it to allow him some balance as the impact had almost been enough to knock him out. Unluckily enough for Eren, he’d held back for some reason. He could’ve smashed  Levi’s  brains while he’d been writhing on the floor... Yet, Eren chose the cowardly way; running without finishing the job.

Loose ends always come back to haunt you, punish you, and Levi will teach him this.

The man takes his time however, certain the kid won’t be able to get far. Likely he will try the car first, which has sagged too deep into the mud. Eren will be stupid enough to floor the gas pedal, which will result in the tires digging themselves even deeper into the ground.   
And then what? He’ll run, in the forest? A forest Levi knows and Eren doesn’t. Or will he follow the road to the town? Which will take him well over an hour to get through. He will collapse in the rain and cold, being bare-chested and -footed. He won’t make it.

Levi reaches down, picks up the kid’s sweater.

He smells it once. Finds his scent to stink and instead uses the fabric to wipe the blood from his face before tossing it back onto the floor.

For a moment, Levi considers bringing his pistol with him, or perhaps a kitchen knife. But closing his eyes brings back the last page of the book into his vision. Eren’s always been meant to be killed by Levi’s hands. From the moment he saw him as a baby he’d had the desire to choke him, though back then it’d been out of jealousy and envy rather than desire and craving.

Repeatedly folding his hands into fists, pumping the muscles in his arms, Levi exits his office.


	31. Glossy Stones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late upload. Had a busy weekend and started an internship.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Though it takes him plenty of seconds before managing to shove the key into the ignition –what with his hands trembling to the point where he’d almost dropped the bundle a few times-, the engine starts up without trouble.   
It went so easily that Eren has to take a moment to stare down at the dashboard, listen to the rumble of the car. 

He hadn’t expected this. Eren had thought that, like in movies, it wouldn’t start up in the first place. Or it at least would’ve taken a few tries.

Though not recalling when he’d learned how to drive a vehicle to begin with, Eren knows which pedal is which and he doesn’t waste any time in flooring the one to accelerate.   
The front of the car lifts up lightly and for a second Eren believes he’ll be able to drive off. Yet, other than the noise of revving tires and mud splattering onto the frame, nothing happens.

“Shit.” The boy curses, glances at the cabin, the front-door of which is illuminated eerily by the vehicle’s headlights.

No sign of the man.

Swinging open the car-door, Eren looks outside, finds the tires buried deeply into mud.

“You are not going to get out of here like this.”

Eren shouts, his heart skipping several beats, when a voice sounds behind him.

Still hanging out of the car, one hand on the steering wheel, the other against the door-frame, Eren puts a face to the voice.

It’s the woman.

Is she al ive- ... No, impossible. He’s hallucinating again.

The world around him is silent. There’s no rain, no rustling of branches. Only the hum of the vehicle’s engine and his own pounding heart.

Pulling himself back into the car, Eren can’t find it within himself to look behind him at the back seat. His shoulders rise up, instinctively protecting his neck, as his gaze travels up the windshield until he’s staring into the rear-view mirror.

The woman is looking back at him.   
She’s sitting up, her skin snow-white, her eyes dull, her hair still soaked and stringy, lips blue and a red blotch in the middle of her face where the tip of her nose should be.

They look at each other for a long while, both frozen in place, and Eren wonders if she’s come back to life by some forgiving miracle.

“What do I do?” The boy whispers, voice shaky because of the cold as much as because of stress.

“You run.” She replies with cracked lips and dirt between her teeth.

“I’m going to freeze before I get out of here.”

“The trunk.”

Eren frowns, waits for her to clarify until reminding himself that he’s not talking to a human being. He’s talking to his own thoughts.

“Hide in the trunk?” Eren asks, not at all believing this would be a good idea. Either Levi would find him or he’d choke in it.

The woman’s eyes move slightly, gaze at something outside.

“He’s coming.” She whispers and with it her mouth curls down at its corners, mimicking a horrified look.

Eren glances at the cabin, sees no movement, but trusts his instincts. He takes out the key, stumbles out of the car and dashes towards its back.    
Opening the trunk with a loud pop, the boy exhales in relief when finding a thick, wool blanket inside. He grabs it, turns around and starts running.

Traveling for what seems hours, but likely has only been minutes, Eren tries his best to ignore the pain in his feet. They’re ice-cold, cut and bruised by having ran over a forest-floor scattered with branches and rocks.   
The blanket he’s wrapped around his shoulders, knotted together clumsily across his chest, does little to keep him warm as wind swoops underneath it easily with the speed at which he’s moving.

But he keeps going. Keeps running, panting. Eren continues to focus on the only option he has; escaping. It’s  escape or die.

Caring little about saving energy as he’s convinced Levi must be right behind him, the boy maintains his speed as best as possible. He stumbles at times, when glancing over his shoulder; seeing nothing but bare trees swallowed by shadows. 

When he looks behind him for the dozenth time, the boy trips, foot hooked behind a curved root poking through wet dirt. The stench of petrichor, of rotten leaves, hits his face when impacting with the ground.

Though the fall would’ve been meaningless at any other given time, tonight it causes his entire body to ache. Eren groans, takes a moment to rest even though his instincts scream at him to keep going.   
He’s exhausted, only notices it now when lying down.

“What do I do...” He whines to himself, his nose prickles.

And that’s when he hears the whispering.

Stirring, Eren listens closely, hears multiple voices hiss at him. Most of them speak languages he’s not even sure exist and though not understanding the context, their intonations are horrific. They rumble. They wheeze. They form words in reverse, in- and exhaling in rhythms that do not make sense.   
They get louder. And louder. Closing in on the boy and freezing him into place. Subduing him into a swallowing pit of anxiety. Of panic. Fear. Fear. So much fear. He’s going to die. He’ll be murdered. No one will find him. No one will know he’s gone. He has no one.

Only Levi.

Levi is the only one who knows him.

Only him. Only that man. That rotten creature that wants to eat him, like the monsters under a younger Eren’s bed used to.

“Get up.”

The voice is formed into a whisper, yet it’s so close to his ear that it sounds like a shout, that the power behind them causes hot breath to fan out over his skin.

Eren shouts, squeezes his eyes shut as he rolls onto his back and starts swaying his arms, kicking his feet.

“Leave me alone!” He screams, keeps rolling, keeps flailing, hits nothing.

Only when he’s out of breath, only when taking note of the whispers having disappeared around him, does Eren stop moving.

Lying on his back, he cracks open his eyes, carefully. He expects Levi to be standing over him, a weapon raised above his head; ready to be swung down and break Eren’s skull.   
Despite his worst expectations, a black –yet starry- sky greets him instead. Eren peers at it through the bare branches. 

For a moment... Just a few seconds... he grows emotional over having the witnessing of such a beautiful image tainted by circumstances. He should not lie here, enjoying the sentiment of bright stars in a pitch-black sky. Eren should be getting up, should be running, should be finding a weapon to protect himself.

Burying his fingers into the dirt, he takes in the cold and wet sensation creeping underneath his nails. Is this the last time he’ll be able to enjoy such blandness? Inhaling, the scent of rain, of cold, swirls into him.   
He remembers now, that he used to loathe this season. This kind of weather and these temperatures... Eren, as a child, adored the sun. He loved bright-blue skies and the warmth on his skin, the blinding in his eyes and the excuse for always being outside.

He remembers now, that he used to loathe being inside. Living in cities.   
Eren loved nature. Loved the scent of flowers and even the tickling in his nostrils when smelling mowed grass. Loved to cool down in lakes, tippy-toeing over slick pebbles, having fish touch his legs.

He loved animals. Kind and innocent and never judging. Pure.

He loved-

“Get up!”

Eren gasps, blinks, readjusts his gaze to look away from the sky and instead witness a shadow looming at his feet.

There’s no face. It’s larger than Levi. Taller and broader. It stands with legs spread, claws dangling next to its knees; arms too long for a human. Shoulders too wide for a human. Its head is small, but horns curl upward and out; their length so grand Eren is surprised it can keep its head up.   
The shadow writhes, distance pulsates nearer with every heartbeat of Eren’s; faster and closer and closer until it stands above him.

Just like how he’d imagined Levi to be moments earlier.

And just reminding himself of that name shakes the black from the man. Horns dissipate, body shrinks and bones crack as he’s conjured back into a human form.

It’s Levi. 

Eren gazes up at him, their eyes just barely managing to meet in the dark of the night.

“I’m sorry.” The boy whispers, finds his voice to tremble dramatically.

“Get up and start running, Eren.”

For a moment Eren considers if he’s talking to his own imagination. If his own thoughts are telling him to keep going.   
But he can smell his cologne, even through the stench of the forest. Eren can hear the man breathe; slow and steady. He can see he’s holding something in his right hand, something large and rounded... Like a rock, or maybe even the paper-weight Eren had used to hit him in the head with.

“I’m sorry.” Eren tries again, his heart skipping beats, his arms shaking when he lifts his hands in front of his face; protecting himself for if the man would decide to beat him to death.

Though it’s hard to tell through the thick shadows, Levi seems to grimace, an expression of disgust at Eren’s frightened state. Yet, it could be a trick of the eye, easily so, as he  doubts he’s even half-conscious by now.

“Get up!” Levi shouts. Voice chiming and bouncing off nearby trees in its power. It makes Eren’s entire body jump and with it he scrambles to his feet and starts running from him.

He doesn’t make it far.

Only a handful of steps are taken before a sharp pain and white light bring him face-down.

The disorientation is worse than the throbbing pain.   
Eren groans softly, tries to get up but finds that gravity seems to have tilted upside-down. He manages to roll himself onto his side, has to blink white dots from his vision.    
Watching Levi nearby, bending over, picking up the same object he’d held, Eren figures out he must’ve been hit in the head with it.

Wanting to touch his own skull is an attempt that proves futile, his arms heavier than even his body. All the boy can manage to do is lie there, let the man press the toe of his shoe against his shoulder; rolling him onto his back.

Levi lowers himself on top of his chest, like an incubus he presses down atop of him, chokes him with his weight alone.

Eren inhales, raspy, before his breath stutters to a halt as he witnesses Levi raising the rock above his head.

“Levi-” 

He brings it down.

Eren’s vision goes bright, blinding him from pain and fear. The white swallows the entire forest, burns away Levi from his sight, until it dissipates into gentler tones.

The boy blinks.

Once.

Twice.

Awakens in a hospital room.

Darting his eyes around, Eren tries to remember what happened to him after being hit in the head with a rock. He can’t recall.   
Did someone find them in the forest? Did Levi change his mind and bring him here?

Turning his head results in his entire brain throbbing, the pain so severe it makes his jaws and teeth ache.    
Eren squints his eyes, groans softly, before witnessing a bundle of bright colors.

He blinks once more.

Flowers.

Someone left flowers on the side-cabinet.

Trying to reach out towards the little card dangling from the bouquet allows Eren to figure out his depth-perception is horrendously off. Not only is his vision blurry and do the white walls, floor and sheets hurt his eyes, but his arm sways left to right while trying to keep it steady.   
He opens and closes his fingers repeatedly, tries to grab the paper, but only manages to touch air.

It’s horribly frustrating.

“They’re from me.”

Eren freezes, tears immediately welling up at recognizing her voice.

He glances at the door across the bed’s foot-end, the blurry image of his friend greeting him.

“Mikasa...” He whispers, reaches out to her instead .

The young girl steps forwards, stretches out her arm towards him, holds his hand.

Her pale features come into focus as she leans in , gray eyes and black hair remind him of Levi almost immediately, and it causes him to grow rigid at her touch.

“It’s okay.” She whispers, her smile apparent as she comes even closer .

Eren squeezes his eyes shut, blinks away tears before looking up at her again.

“What happened?” He asks her when finding that her features are not contorting into something demonic.

Mikasa’s face falls, betray everything to him even if he hadn’t known her since they’d been toddlers.

She glances away, grimaces lightly.

“You don’t remember?”

Going to shake his head, Eren winces at the pain in his skull and instead options to murmur a quiet ‘no’.

“You were in a car accident.” She admits, clasps his hand into both of hers, squeezes.

The trepidation is noticeable. He can feel it in the sterile. air around them. She has yet to tell the whole story.

“With your parents.” She adds.

“Are they o-” He starts but pauses when she shakes her head, her eyes watery.

“I’m sorry.”

Condolences.

Had this all been a nightmare? From the point at which his parents passed away up until waking up in this hospital? He’d been dreaming... The hallucinations, Levi, the murder, the chase in the forest; a dream?

“How long have I been here?”

“Oh Eren... It’s been months.”

Months... It’d add up to how long this nightmare had been going on.

“So... There’s no Levi?”

Mikasa frowns at him. The confusion soothes him in some sense. The man never existed? It was just a monster he’d thought up.

It had felt so real, however... Even throughout all of his hallucinations and confusion, it’d been so real.

“You mean your doctor?” She tries.

“My doctor?”

“Dr. Ackerman. He’s been treating you these past months.”

Eren takes a moment to let the information penetrate his aching skull. If what his friend says is true, if this  _ is  _ reality, then maybe he’d caught glimpses of Levi throughout his stay at the hospital... Perhaps those peculiar features and dreadful voice had served to feed into Eren’s nightmares; coming up with a villain beyond his own understanding.

“I’ve had the weirdest dream...” Eren murmurs, his throat hurts.

Mikasa watches him for a moment, pity apparent on her face.

“It was horrible.” The boy adds, concludes almost.

The horror at his own imagination soothes when the girl exclaims a quiet ‘aw’ before she leans down and embraces him carefully.   
The hug is soft, but no matter; Eren’s entire body hurts at the touch.

She holds him for long and her body is warm. A kiss on his cheek initiates the end of their embrace and the boy’s careful smile falls when he watches her pull back.   
Not only because the lack of her grounding touch frightens him, but moreover because he spots a nasty wound atop her left temple.

He grabs her shoulder, prevents her from moving away any further and ignores her confused mumble of his name.

“Where did you get this?” Eren asks, frowns as he prods the injury.

A split second follows in which his mind tries to assure him that any resemblance with what he’d done to Levi is coincidental and that perhaps she just had fallen, hit her head on an overhead cabinet, perhaps even been in the car with Eren and his parents.

However...

“Don’t you remember?” Two voices, synchronized. Mikasa’s light and feminine tones strangled by a rasp all too familiar.

Eren shoves her away, meets her eyes and finds them to be lighter still. Her hair darker, her skin paler, her face... sharper. Sharper. And sharper until the man is staring back at him.

Levi smiles through Mikasa’s features, as if he’d ripped off her face and is wearing it. It’s fake, not quite him, but definitely not her.

“You didn’t quite hit me hard enough, did you?” It’s Levi’s voice this time around and as Eren grows short of breath, as his heart begins to pound, the man leans over him.

Eren can feel himself almost physically shrink with Levi hovering over him. 

Though unable to tell if he’s dreaming or if this is a delusion mixed up with reality, Eren still tries to shove him off.

Levi isn’t bothered, doesn’t seem to even notice that Eren’s kicking and slapping him. The man’s body is solid, keeps closing in until the tips of their noses touch.

“Not yet.” Levi’s voice sounds far away, sounds distressed, though his face remains amused.

“Not yet, Eren.” He repeats and the boy finds his body growing lighter, his muscles relaxing to the point where limbs fail to move and soon after he’s finding it hard to even breath. 

“I can’t breathe.” Eren whispers. His heart skips several beats as he searches Levi’s face for anything; compassion or anger. Anything other than the smirk.

“Levi.” Eren tries to repeat himself but ends up wheezing instead and finally Levi frowns.

“Not yet.” The man repeats, voice barely managing to break through the ringing in Eren’s ears and out of anything the man could’ve done to help him; kissing hadn’t been on Eren’s list of assumptions.

As their lips touch, Eren finds that his own are numb and incapable of movement. He doesn’t quite register the man’s taste, nor the sensation of brushing lips, yet what Eren does feel is how Levi pries open his mouth with his tongue.

He doesn’t understand why the man would be kissing him. He can’t breathe, can’t even wheeze, every inch of him paralyzed; from eyelids to the tips of his fingers and toes.

His vision grows blurry. His chest aches and he’s light-headed. A panic tries to wash over him, however Eren feels himself float so far away from his body that he can’t even manage to have his heartbeat rise in its pace.

Matter of fact... It only seems to grow slower with every passing second.

Is this...  _ Is he dying? _

Even the realization doesn’t serve in having his blood pump through his system.

“Eren.” Levi’s voice is quiet, yet his tone is harsh. Far away, even though Eren is marginally aware the man’s on top of him.

Trying to reply is pointless. Not a single part of him is responsive to his own thoughts any longer.

He’s sinking deeper, into the bed. It’s cold, freezing. Wet.

Vaguely Eren can feel Levi kiss him again. His vision grows darker, and darker still. Until Eren can feel something pushing its way into his throat, down deeper until his chest seems to burst. His lungs fill up.

Air.

Oxygen. Blown into him.

More. And firmer. More and more, blood rushing. Sounds coming closer. Sensations returning as pins and needles tickle his body.

And then Eren regains consciousness.

The boy gasps. The breath of air taken so intense that he ends up choking on it. Eren coughs, tries to find his bearings and sit up to inhale more oxygen.   
Yet, a pressure on his chest keeps him down and it takes, what feels like, ages of coughing and gasping before the boy calms down slightly and looks around.

It’s dark. Night-time. Cold. The stench of rotting leaves and wet dirt meets his senses. The sound of a distant breeze curls into his ears. The sight of Levi appears above him.

“Welcome back.” Levi blandly says.

Eren’s throat feels tight when he swallows and glancing down at himself shows Levi sitting on top of his chest. His hands are resting upon his thighs, a large rock placed between them. The object is glossy on one side; thick black liquid dripping off the edge of it.

“You tried to kill me.” Eren whispers, his voice a mere crack.

Levi tilts his head. He doesn’t look amused one bit. Agitation lingers on his features.

“I succeeded.” The man murmurs.

“You brought me back.” Eren adds, realizing the man had given him mouth-to-mouth in order to  resurrect him, pulling him back into the world.

_ Why? _

“Yes.” Levi agrees, seems to want to say something more but instead looks down and picks up the rock he’d flung at Eren’s head.

The boy grows tense, expects him to finish the job once again. 

Yet, Levi gets up. He tosses the stone away and Eren shivers at how loud the thump is when it lands on the ground a few feet from them.

“Let’s go home.” The man suggests, holds out a hand towards the boy.

Eren isn’t sure what is more absurd... Asking someone to get up after having been hit in the head with stone the size of a brick and after having literally died, or expecting someone to want to return to a house with the one who’d tried to murder them.

The boy tries to reach up and clasp his hand into Levi’s, even when suspecting he’ll end up dead inside the cabin rather than the forest, but his arm just sways and he misses repeatedly.

“Don’t know why I expected you to be functional after choking the life out of you.” The man dryly states before squatting down next to Eren.

Hearing that the man had been choking him to death rather than using a rock for it like he’d thought before, leaves Eren confused as to which option would’ve been less horrifying.   
Sure, beating him to a pulp would’ve been violent and heinous... But the intimacy and power behind squeezing air from him for god knows how long... Well... That’s just visceral.

Disturbing.

Eren grows dizzy the moment Levi picks him up with an arm wrapped around his shoulder, the other hooked underneath his knees. Gravity spins and the boy ends up blaming the depravity of oxygen in his brain for how he clings to the man the entire way back to the cabin.

Back home.


	32. Untied Plots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: mentioning of rape

Days are spent in limbo. Eren wakes up at intervals, at times witnessing the presence of another being in the room with him; be it through his blurry vision or hearing it through the ringing in his ears.   
Regardless, the boy ends up passing out not long after whenever he awakens. Never mind the anxiety induced upon him by the shadows slithering across the ceiling.

It’s disorientating to say the least. Hardly grasping what is dream and what is reality, Eren has a hard time even figuring out what had happened and why he’s seemingly bedridden.

Yet, as per usual, his subconscious is more aware of the truth –reality- than his actual conscious is. And so, when days have seemed to have passed by and his brain grows less cloudy, Eren tries to remember his dreams whenever waking up in a cold sweat.

Now is such a time.   
He gasps, his eyes snapping open along with the sharp inhale. Gazing at the dark ceiling above him, Eren tries his best to recall what his mind had conjured up this time around.

A forest. At night. Temperature freezing. Rain and the smell of rotten wood. A weight on his chest and hands constricting his windpipe.   
Eren goes to reach up, prod at his throat and find out if there’s bruising beneath his skin. Yet, he barely lifts his hand before something stops it from moving.   
Blinking a few times, trying to rid his eyes from the blur that’s been accompanying him as of late, Eren looks down.

He moves his hand again. Tugs. Feels a soft yet firm fabric rub against his skin. And then a clank.   
Eren squints, observes the outline of a wide, brown strip stretched taut between the bed and his hand that he’s holding up slightly.

It’s a belt.

He’s restrained to the bed.

Lolling his head to the left, he tries his other hand, finding it tied as well.

A whimpered groan escapes his lips as he tugs a few more times before figuring out that his  feet  as well are restrained.

Why?

What happened?

His struggling doesn’t last long. Before a soli d minute has passed, Eren finds himself out of breath, even more light-headed than before.

A headache rumbles in his skull the moment he relaxes back into the bed. It’s intense. White-hot pain, dots splatter ed into his vision no matter if he closes his eyes or has them  o pened .

“Shit.” Eren curses softly , mouth dry . Even moving his lips and tongue causes pain to jolt from the base of his skull all the way up and around to the bridge of his nose. His head feels as if it’s been run over by a truck.

Or hit with a  basebal l bat.

Or a rock.

_ A rock _ .

The size of a brick. Glossy w i th blood. Hel d  by two pale hands.

Eren’s breath hitches as memorie s claw themselves back into the forefront of his mind. Levi had chased him into the forest, thrown a stone at his head, knocked him unconscious with it right after and then had proceeded to choke him to death.

And Levi had  b rought him back not long after.

Just like that... so easily ripped from this world only to be shoved back into it. As if Levi had been Death, as if he’d been _God_.   
In absolute control.

Glancing around, Eren tries to look for the man,  gets anxious at the thought of him being here to repeat the murder. B ut  all Eren witnesses is that, though the bedroom is empty, it’s not his own one.  He’s in Levi’s.

Eren had woken up and seen daylight, had woken up and been cascaded in darkness. Time of days had made little sense to him but as he’s finally able to stay awake for longer than a few counts, Eren figures that he undoubtedly had been asleep in Levi’s bed for a long while.   
Yet, he smells clean, as do the sheets. He’s woken up in a cold sweat more than once, but no stench lingers. Levi is here... He’s been bathing Eren, probably even assisted him in relieving himself in the bathroom.

The thought of this makes Eren’s skin crawl, as embarrassed as he’s disturbed by the knowledge that the man had been taking care of him like he’d been a puppet.

Levi could’ve killed him ten times over by now... Maybe he had. Is there a limit to how many times one can be brought back alive? … Before the ‘incident’, Eren hadn’t even known that it’d been a possibility to begin with. Certainly, he is aware of  defibrillators, of heart massages... But not that easily, right?

Levi had beaten him with a rock and choked the air from him... How had he managed to get him back amongst the living?   
The dream of Mikasa, of the hospital, had that been a pathway to Heaven before Levi dragged him back down to earth?

Eren’s never believed in Heaven before... But if there’s no such thing as a God, then how can something as evil as Levi exist? Is that man not fueled by the Devil himself? How can a human being be this disturbed without the influence of a higher being?

Maybe they just do.

Maybe it’s just that simple. Some people are bad, some are good, some are a bit more  in between . 

Which one’s Eren?

A distant thump shakes Eren from his existential thoughts. Glancing at the door,  heart pounding,  Eren waits for the sound to repeat itself. Nothing follows.

Regardless, Eren’s aware that the man will return eventually and this time around he’ll be very likely conscious unlike before. So, what is he to say to the creature that toyed with his life?

Anger seems like the dumbest tactic. After all, Eren had attacked Levi and in return had been murdered for it. So, this no longer seems like an option.

Unless he finishes the job this time around... Unless he manages to cripple Levi and prevent him from chasing Eren. For this, however, Eren needs to be able to catch Levi off - guard. A very difficult thing to manage, especially after what happened now... Levi must’ve lost all trust in him.

Hence, faith has to be regained. Feigned understanding.

Closing his eyes and recalling what had led up to him attacking Levi, Eren tries to put logic to Levi’s reasoning.   
The man had been so gleeful over his murders. He hadn’t seemed proud per se; as if it was a given that these people were supposed to be killed by him. It had appeared that Levi had wanted to involve Eren more than anything.

But for what reason? Curiosity? Perversion? Acceptance? Love?

Nothing, no longer, seems unlikely. Levi had surprised Eren to say the least and going by how  unreliable  his own memory is, Eren needs to play more carefully this time around. Pay attention to details... Form words with care... Touch gently and observe quietly.

And then what?

Gain trust. Betray  - successfully - .  _ Run _ .

The door clicks, creaks as it sways open slowly to reveal only a pitch-black hole. That is until Levi steps into the room. One single step. His eyes glued to Eren. His expression blank though the pace and weight of his movements betrays a wariness.

A careful approach... or perhaps a disinterest in being near him.

It’s odd to see him again. A lot of time had passed, or at least that’s what it feels like to Eren. To lay his eyes on this man after all that had happened, and not find his features disturbed by a wide grin or glowing eyes, is unexpected.   
There are no horns protruding from his skull, no black wings spread behind his back.

Just human. Just a  _ sick _ man.

Eren, though still appalled by the man's morals, reminds himself of the assumption that Levi must be feeling deeply betrayed at what had happened.   
No matter the content of what he'd shared with Eren... He'd told him for a reason, a purpose behind sharing. Perhaps a desire or even a wish to be understood and accepted.

That is what Eren assumes; still trying to find some reason and some morals in the man.   
Despite being a murderer, he has to have limits. He has to have _some _compassion.

If a person does not possess this, then can it even be called human to begin with?   
Is this not at the core of human kind? Is this not what separates them from beasts? From monsters.

Eren is too afraid to speak, hasn't a clue as to what Levi is believing nor as to what he might be plotting.   
And so they maintain the silence stretched between them.

It's only when Levi steps farther inside, towards the foot end of his bed, that Eren sees the hammer. Instinctively he goes to sit up, only to be held back by the restraints.   
Babbling follows suit.

Though uncertain as to what he even wants to say, Eren begins to utter words that are meaningless and panicked. His sentences are strung together like those from a drunk, their intonation and pace matching the pounding in his chest and tightness of his lungs.

Levi seems deaf to  his pleas . His expression almost bored as he lifts his leg to place one bare foot onto the edge of the mattress.

The boy watches, in horror, voice cracking to a halt, as Levi steps onto the bed andwalks forward. Farther. Closer.   
Until each one of his feet frame Eren's torso.

The boy can feel the warmth of Levi's skin seep through the blanket where his feet are pressed against the sides of his chest for balance.   
Though desiring to look up and meet the man's gaze, Eren can't bring himself to tear his eyes away from the hammer dangling from Levi's left hand; large, menacing.

"Levi..." The boy tries, pauses as he can't find words to say. Anything could make it worse rather than better. Anything could convince Levi to smash his skull right now rather than a little bit later.

And at this time, Eren would give anything to stay alive just a little longer. Eren would give everything to not go through the terror and pain of being beaten to death with a hammer just quite yet.

When Levi does move his hand and the weight of the hammer is shown by the simple movement, Eren recoils as much as is possible with his body being tied to the bed.

Levi tosses the hammer from his left hand to his right, the carelessness of it causing Eren to squeeze his eyes shut in  preparation to  having the tool  fall down onto his face.

Yet, with eyes closed, the weight impacting with his chest results in him startling that much more.   
Eren blinks, looks up at the man sitting on top of him, expects him to raise the hammer like he had the stone.

Levi glances at him shortly before he leans to his left, reaches down with the hammer and after some fumbling, Eren realizes Levi’s dislodging a nail he’d used to make sure the belt would not be removed from the wooden bed’s frame.   
Why Levi wouldn’t just unbuckle it from Eren’s wrist... The boy assumes has all to do with intimidating him by bringing inside a weapon. And it had worked, proven by how breathless Eren feels, blood having drained from his face and leaving him frozen.

With one hand released, Eren doesn’t move. He remains lying down, stiffly and tense, watching Levi like a hawk.

The silence between them is more frightening than it is awkward. Eren holds his breath as Levi removes a few more nails from both sides of the bed. 

Despite having his hands freed, Eren’s very much observant of the fact that after Levi gets back up from the bed; he does not unbind his feet.   
Moreover, Eren’s grows anxious when the man –after tossing the hammer onto the floor- begins to unbutton his shirt.

“What are you doing?” The boy’s question is formed incorrectly. It's obvious what the man is doing, yet Eren finds himself panicking over the reason behind Levi’s actions.

The silence continues as Levi pulls off his shirt, revealing an upper-body Eren’s seen only a few times. Yet never before had he been granted the lighting nor the distance and time to observe just how muscular Levi’s shoulders are, just how strong his arms look.  However, i t's only a bit of a surprise... After having been punched by him, grabbed by him, choked by him...  It shouldn’t feel like such a big reveal to witness the strength displayed beneath smooth skin .

W hen the man begins to unbuckle his belt, shrugging off his trousers and underwear with a hint of haste , t he term ‘rape’ jolts into the boy’s skull . Eren physically flinches at the intrusive thought, formed as a warning drumming in his ears.

Is this Levi’s plan? Is his intention to now have his way with him while his feet are still tied to the bed; preventing him from escaping? An act of vengeance.

Only after Levi tugs the blanket off of him, dumping it onto the floor, and goes to place a knee onto the bed, Eren sits up.   
Bringing up both arms in defense, Eren then plants both hands against the man’s shoulderswhen he goes to lean over him.

“Please don’t do this, Levi. Please, I’m sorry about everything I've done. I’ll be good but don’t- just don’t do  _ this _ . Don’t.”

Finally, as the man pauses and their eyes meet, does he speak.

“You assume I want to rape you so often it almost makes me believe you want me to.”

The comment is beyond inappropriate. Beyond insulting and distasteful. And yet all the boy can manage to do is remain silent; frightened that the wrong response will convince Levi of just that.

T here had been a time Eren had wanted Levi in intimate manners.

Yet, rape had never been on his list of desires. Rape isn’t intimacy. Rape isn’t even ‘fucking’. Rape is one-sided, selfish and brutal and the kid is certain he’d rather have a date with Levi’s hammer than have this man disrespect  him  in such vicious fashion.

Is he insane for that? For wanting to be killed rather than...

Levi resumes, doesn’t even need to remove Eren’s hands as the boy’s too weak to hold them up , pushes him down with his own weight.

Not unlike what had happened in the man’s office; Eren finds himself being held by him once again.

The man’s hair tickles Eren’s nose when he buries his face into the crook of his neck. Levi inhales deeply, his body growing heavier atop Eren as if the boy’s smell makes him relax. And that must be what it does to Levi, for he remains lying on top of him –holding him- in silence for an endless amount of time.

Throughout the experience, with only the sound of Levi’s slow breathing accompanying the boy’s thoughts, earlier plans echo.   
It’s clear now that Levi’s completely lost any sense of himself. He lacks insight, he lacks logic and more-over does he lack self-control. Despite Eren having believed Levi had been a man entirely in control of himself and others, it is now apparent it’s quite the opposite.   
Maybe, years ago, or in a previous life, Levi had been in charge of his demented self.

But today.Even at this very second; he’s unhinged.   
A ticking timebomb of which Eren does not know when it will explode but it is certain that it will and before that happens, he needs to flee.   
The moment Levi goes off, it’s over.

He needs to get out of here. He needs to get away from him.   
And he has to do it successfully this time around. Levi wouldn’t give him another chance after what they’d been through. If Eren slips up, he’s dead.

More patience has to be practiced for this second round. Maybe days, maybe even weeks. The boy just needs enough time to soothe each and every one of Levi’s woes. And to do this, he needs to understand him, or at least grasp the root to his irrational beliefs.

“Why?” Eren asks softly.

Levi’s breathing pauses momentarily, yet he doesn’t move; remains breathing against the boy’s skin which has gone damp by his exhales.

“Why did you bring me back?”

Eren knows why Levi had killed him. Eren had ran from him, Eren had judged him with this action alone. Eren had rejected him after Levi shared with him his true identity.   
Yet, why Levi had given him a second chance is something the boy can’t figure out.   
After all, his earlier murders had seemed so cut-throat, no second-guessing and absolutely no regret.

So... unabashedly irreversible.

“I didn’t want you to be cold.” Levi whispers, his voice so hoarse it sounds more like a growl.

Eren isn’t sure if Levi means that he didn’t want to be touching a cold body or that he didn’t want Eren to experience the cold that occurs after death. The latter of these would make little sense, but Eren can put two and two together in this case.    
Despite these options, the teenager isn’t sure which reasoning he’d prefer.

“I didn’t like  when you went  limp.” He adds.

Eren wonders if Levi had finally been confronted by the finality of death itself when he’d squeezed the life from him... He’s saying these things, these simple facts that occur when deceased, in such a pondering tone that it seems like he hadn’t given them thought before it’d happened.   
He’s killed so many... But Eren’s different. Eren is somehow realer than others before him.

Perhaps closer.

A tad more beloved.

The fact that he could’ve been decomposing in the ground at this very moment causes Eren to grow teary-eyed. Not so much out of sadness as it is out of shock.

“I didn’t want you to leave thinking that you are not cared about.”

There it is.

Like suspected, Eren is -in some sick way- special to Levi.

Eren clings to the confirmation immediately.

“Am I?”

Levi only nods, his face rubbing against the boy’s shoulder.

“By whom?”

This time around, Levi does grow rigid. He stops breathing for a moment and Eren can hear his lips smack as he opens his mouth to speak. Yet, no words follow.

“Everyone who cares about me is gone.” Eren urges, tries to get the man to confess caring about him. No matter how deluded his idea of care might be, it’s something Eren can use to his advantage.   
It’s a fragile emotion, one easily broken (such as he’d done in Levi’s office) but mendable.

“No...” Levi murmurs, shakes his head softly.

“No, they’re still here.”

For a split second the image of his entire family buried underneath the house flashes across Eren’s retina. The memory of his father’s red Mustang parked behind the house. The fact that his mother is in Levi’s note-book. Mikasa in his dream when he’d been dying.

The picture of it makes him stiffen and Levi notices.

“You think I would murder the people that care about you? You think I would be  _ that  _ selfish?”

Eren wants to say ‘yes’. Of course, Levi would be able to do those things; his entire logic ruled by a selfishness that wrecks any moral.   
But a split second before he confirms these believes, Eren reminds himself of Levi’s sneakier ways.

As unruly and insane as this man may appear to be, there’s still a thought-process behind everything that he says and these questions he’d asked... Had they been rhetorical? Or had they been a test?

Eren glances to his left, stares at the hammer on the floor.

He  can not anger this man. Even if Levi’s murdered his entire family... He can’t infuriate him. Not here, not now.

“No.” Eren blandly replies and when his answer doesn’t seem to relax Levi’s rigid body, he lifts his heavy arms.

Levi stirs at the touch and Eren freezes along with him. Had he made a mistake? Had he overdone it? Had he proven to Levi his own thoughts by this ingenuine action?

Yet, t he man relaxes carefully and Eren wraps his arms around his bare back.

The embrace is awkward to the boy. He stares at the ceiling, despises how soft Levi’s skin is underneath his thumbs which he brushes over him in a comforting manner.  How can this beast feel so soothing in his arms?

Levi killed his parents...  Surely. There’s no other reason behind why he would’ve asked about it. There’s no other reason behind how Eren had ended up with him in the first place.

Levi had known Carla... Had wanted her, couldn’t get her, so he went after the next best thing; her son.

It makes sense, right? Maybe he even had went so far as to drug Eren out of his mind to result in his memory-loss, or maybe he’d _beaten _the memories from him.   
Levi’s drugged him before and physically hurt him before... So, is it that farfetched?

Minutes turn into what feels like hours of Eren shedding quiet tears, of Eren rubbing the man’s back more gently than he’d ever touched another human being.

Of Eren getting more and more convinced that his escape-plan should follow only after a vengeance committed.


	33. Reformed Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote the previous chapter a bit (for those of you who read the messy draft version that I uploaded in haste).  
If you've already read it, you're not missing a lot, but if you have some time on your hands I would appreciate you giving it another read.  
It makes more sense now and is a bit more fleshed out imo.
> 
> On to this chapter;  
WARNING: dub-con, panic attack (vaguely described)
> 
> Enjoy

He follows him around like a shadow; at his heels at all times, breathing down his neck... though not quite literally. Not yet. 

It’s not a foreign sensation, having Levi watch him shower. Eren had suspected the man of doing just that, countless of times before. Yet, never this brazenly, this closely, and never with Levi knowing Eren is aware. 

Eren allows it, doesn’t have much of a choice to begin with. But even if he did, he wouldn’t raise suspicion by rejecting Levi’s presence, no matter how inappropriate. And it is. It is undesired and tactless and Eren finds himself blushing as he relieves himself in the shower. Anything but having to go on the toilet with the man watching, listening... smelling how dehydrated he is. 

The only comfort is that the man remains silent as he leans against the doorpost, eyes drilling holes in the back of Eren’s skull.   
Though, as much as it’s a comfort at this very moment, the boy is aware it’ll only serve to worry him the longer it stretches on. 

Despite wanting to throw insults at Levi’s head, Eren holds on to a marginal amount of calmness as he stands in front of him after exiting the shower.   
He dries his hair, stands naked, watches Levi as closely as the man is watching him. He expects Levi to snarl at him, bite a remark, perhaps even shove him away to create some distance between them. 

But he submits... To some odd and careful degree, Levi lowers his gaze and turns his body; leaning his back against the doorpost, allowing Eren space to pass by. 

Eren swallows down a ‘thank you’, exits the bathroom in silence. 

Levi follows him to his bedroom. Observes him putting on a pair of pajamas.   
Follows Eren into the kitchen right after. Watches him prepare a snack in the light of the refrigerator left open. Stands next to the table as Eren eats.   
And follows him back upstairs, the steps creaking underneath both of their footsteps. 

Eren halts in the middle of the dark hallway, suppresses the shudder that creeps up on him when glancing over his shoulder at the man right behind him still. 

“Where do I sleep?” 

Levi stirs at the question. Eren notices at how his clothes rustle from his body growing rigid.   
He’s on edge... Such as Eren is by having been snuffed out and resurrected by his own killer. Levi appears to be as restless by perhaps not having finished the job. 

“We can sleep together.” Eren suggests. It’s a bold and moreover risky thing to suggest. What else is he supposed to do? Lie in his own bed, with Levi watching him?   
There’s a better chance to infiltrate Levi’s personal territory when in _his _bedroom instead. Eren could force a bond, or perhaps retrieve the hammer he’d kicked under Levi’s bed when the man had been picking up the blanket at the other side of the furniture. 

Eren’s bedroom is the past, is pointless, has no escape routes, only consists of memories of delusions and hallucinations. 

Levi’s... a weapon, a chance for intimacy, the scent of a shared territory. Memories of belt-restrained submission. The echo of an embrace and days spent unconscious. 

“Why?” Levi asks. 

This is one of many moments during which Eren needs to consider what he is about to say. He reminds himself of Levi being a ticking bomb, reminds himself of the peculiar craving to have his body plastered against Eren’s. 

“To prove to you.” Eren whispers, hopes that speaking softly will lure the man closer to him. 

And it does. 

The boy can feel Levi lean in, feels his heat. He wonders if the man will go to lick him, or if he is planning to wrap an arm around his throat and force him into a choke-hold.   
The latter thought makes him grow nervous and without being able to stop himself, Eren turns to his left and enters Levi’s bedroom. 

“Prove what?” Levi asks, follows him inside and closes the door behind them. Eren grimaces as he hears the key turn in the lock, doesn’t need to glance over his shoulder to know the man’s pocketed the small object. 

“That I trust you.” The boy blatantly lies as he turns around, faces Levi who pauses at his words abruptly. Their eyes meet, and a somber craving to contact any human part left within Levi hits Eren out of nowhere.   
It’s a pitiful desire. Rather insulting –if not reckless- to find himself craving _some _kindness, _some _bond. 

It takes the boy by slight surprise, makes him wonder if he’s been dreaming or hallucinating all that’s occurred between them lately. 

“Trust me.” Levi murmurs and the corners of his mouth curl up momentarily in amusement stemmed from disbelief. 

Not that far away from his usual self after all... 

Eren swallows down his nerves, straightens his back and hooks trembling fingers underneath the hem of his sleeping shirt, fumbles with the fabric. 

“That I’m not afraid of you.” It’s said more so to convince himself than Levi. And it shows in how the man clacks his tongue. It’s a familiar sound, a familiar action, reminds Eren of a Levi before he’d known about the murders, before the monsters had revealed their authenticity to him. 

Had it not been easier; being delusional? No matter the frightening sights and the flaky touch with reality he’d had... At least there’d been the excuse... the comfort of devils having been conjured up, of Levi’s ways having been imagined. 

Despite his embarrassment to admit it to himself; Eren grows nostalgic to those times. The lesser of two evils. 

He is losing focus. He keeps having to remind himself of what Levi’s done, what Levi is. Of how likely it is that his own parents have been killed by this man. Why give this man the benefit of the doubt? If he’s murdered over a dozen people in only a couple of decades, then why not Carla and Grisha as well? 

Maybe he should just ask him, straight up. 

Eren opens his mouth, yet finds his voice to lack in strength as he’s too busy watching Levi leer at him with suspicion. 

“Prove it.” Levi says. 

It sounds like a dare. Not just the phrasing of it, but more so the glint in Levi's eyes, the manner in which he's hunched his shoulders slightly, leaning his upper body forward. He appears ready to dash across the room and grab Eren by the neck the moment the boy says anything he isn't willing to hear. 

Levi being frozen in place, eyes incredibly wide as they stare at him, prevents Eren from coming up with any words, any soothing reassurance.   
What can he say to convince Levi that he not only isn't scared of him but as well accepts him, so little as likes him? 

It takes him quite some time. A long while passes during which they just gaze at each other as if it's a Western stand-off. One move, one sound will continue their story. Yet Eren isn't sure into what direction. 

Levi's been calm after their awkward cuddle in the bed. But as always, when considering this man, anything experienced comes in abundance. He's been too quiet. Too calm. Too patient. 

When Levi straightens up, his gray eyes cast away, a jolt of panic rushes through the boy and without having time to second guess himself, Eren takes a step towards him. 

The movement surprises the both of them. And Eren feels his heart skip a beat when once more Levi looks at him.   
Is it because he's frightened? It should be. But a marginal sense of relief laps at him the moment Levi's eyes are back on him. 

What does this mean? 

If they're looking at each other, no action can be taken without one of them noticing. So, is that why Eren's comforted by the attention?   
No. It's something other than that.   
Something bigger. 

And he rolls with it. Assumes it's once again his subconscious working together with his instincts to figure out a way to get out of here alive. 

"I like when you look at me." Eren confesses and though they should hold no truth, his words do not taste bitter on his tongue. They do not feel ingenuine. 

Levi, more than Eren, looks taken aback by the confession. 

"Even when you do it in secret. Even when it scared me, back then. I like it." 

How much truth is in these words? Why doesn't it feel like he's bluffing or even exaggerating? 

The man's face falls after a few seconds, from confusion into doubt.   
He takes a step forward, towards Eren who is stood frozen next to the bed. And then repeats the movement, slowly, over and over again until they find themselves chest to chest. 

Eren's inhale stutters, yet he stands his ground. Limbs trembling and stomach turning betray the fear to himself, but the boy keeps up a brave face; refuses to move away and put some well-needed distance between the both of them. 

Despite Levi seeming indifferent about their closeness, Eren takes note of how wide his pupils are and how his flared nostrils inhale just a tad louder than they normally do. It’s not anger, however... Not this time. 

"That’s your proof?" Levi asks, glances at Eren's lips before his eyes flicker back up to meet his stare. 

Not a clue as to what to say to this, mainly because he can tell Levi's on edge, Eren stays quiet. 

Levi considers him for a moment before he tilts his head and does _that thing_ again... that telltale sign, that wordless communication of wanting them to kiss.   
Should Eren take the opportunity this time around?   
For all he knows it might as well be a trap. 

A trick to justify disgust. To justify hurting him. 

Should he ask...? 

The boy licks his lips, holds Levi's gaze, leans in and observes that the man recoils slightly. 

Levi is bluffing. He's testing Eren.   
But on what?   
Would a kiss truly prove to him that Eren stands with him? Even if so, is the man not disgusted by them being intimate with one another? 

After all..., a mere sixteen hours after the blowjob he'd been fucking murdered by him.   
Sure, the trigger had lied within something else but... maybe it all had piled up that day, including the intimacy. 

Whichever it is, Eren reminds himself that he needs to get out of this. He needs to take action. 

"Can I blow you?" 

That is not what he had meant to ask and it must show on his face for Levi scoffs in amusement. Eren had intended to ask if he is allowed to kiss him, but with his mind stuck on the oral intercourse shared between them a while ago, he must’ve misspoken. 

Despite the regret at his own question, Eren is relieved the man ends up entertained rather than pissed off or disgusted. Would asking for a kiss have revolted him? Maybe Levi sees anything sexual as an animalistic way to get relief, and a kiss might be perceived as too telling, fragile and kind; romantic and secure. 

"Sucking my dick doesn't prove shit, Eren." Levi matter-of-factly states. 

"I- no. I just-" the boy stutters. Isn't sure why his mouth had formed words he hadn't meant to say.   
Yet, he might have to wing it again, go with Levi’s demeanor, follow through with whatever lie or truth he’s pronounced. 

Eren let's himself sink down to his knees in front of Levi. 

Maybe it's the rock to the head that's making him think this is a good idea. Maybe he's hallucinating this entire scenario and his actual self is still passed out in the bed. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

A word that starts off so many of the boy's assumptions. And they always are that, just ideas, theories lacking facts but carried high-up by fantasies. 

A fantasy... is that it? 

Eren watches his own hands unbuckle Levi's belt. He feels like he's floating somewhere in the back of his skull, watching from afar through his own eyes rather than from the forefront.   
It's a sensation that reminds him of the shock he'd went through seeing the woman's dead body in the mud. It reminds him of when he'd watched Levi sit on top of him and raise that stone over his head.   
It even reminds him of what he'd experienced when Levi had told him his life story, note-book held out towards Eren like a home-made birthday card plastered with glued-on dry macaroni and crayon drawings. 

Like a child... He'd been so enthusiastic... yet so unhinged. 

It's an out-of-body experience right up to the moment he wraps his hand around the man's half-hard length.   
His skin is searing hot, velvety to the touch, and it causes Eren to release a shaky breath he didn’t know he'd been holding. 

Stroking it slowly a few times, the boy waits to be reprimanded, to be pushed off, slapped against the head. Yet, nothing occurs. 

Levi stands still and though he makes no sounds, Eren knows he's watching the boy closely. This fact alone causes his stomach to knot. And once more not because of disgust like it should be... just nerves, just the thrill of it. 

Perhaps he has a death-wish. Or maybe he’s more fucked up than he thought. 

Continuing his movements, Eren watches the man grow in his hand, swelling rapidly until its head points straight at him even after letting go. 

After removing his hand, licking his lips, Eren wants to glance up at Levi. There's curiosity and a need for reassurance that he will only get either by seeing Levi aroused or by hearing him moan.   
Despite this craving, he finds himself too nervous to do so and hence, ironically, believes it to be easier to just wrap his lips around Levi's tip. 

The man flinches slightly, a sharp inhale accompanying the movement. And in turn, the boy's stomach flips. 

Taking him inside deeper, the boy relaxes his jaw, makes sure his tongue pushes up against the lower-side of the man's cock. He flattens out the muscle, feels heat and tastes nothing but clean skin. 

Unlike before, the sense of guilt, the self-disgust, accompany him immediately rather than afterwards. It makes him pause, makes him reconsider what he is doing and why. 

Again, Eren questions himself about the reason behind why he does what he does when it comes to Levi. He'd given the man the benefit of the doubt, had been proven of his sinister ways, and even then... Even after having been assaulted by Levi, there's a heat within him urging him to be physically close to him.   
This can't be mere teenage hormones. This can't be anything that is capable of being influenced by the logic that is in fact screaming in the back of his mind at him. 

Despite his hallucinations, despite crippling fear, Eren knows wrong from right. He now even knows what 'evil' looks like and he remembers what 'good' used to be. 

And yet still... here he sits, with Levi's cock in his mouth, growing warm to his stomach each and every time Levi moans quietly at Eren's ministrations. Even through his own thoughts and questioning, a part of him had made him resume blowing Levi, as if it's so common to do. As if it's so entertaining to perform this act of hungering after Levi.   
It's hardly an act, however. 

"I'm close." Levi whispers, breathless. 

The abrupt message makes Eren frown. He'd only been sucking him off for hardly a handful of minutes, not even using a hand and keeping a steady rhythm that has yet to build up. 

Eren assumes the man's shared the statement rather absentmindedly and hence he tightens his lips around him, wraps fingers around the base and bops his head up and down faster along with his hand. 

Levi stops him. 

Fingertips are placed gently against the boy's forehead, preventing him from taking the man's cock inside any deeper. 

"Get up." Levi commands, voice hoarse. 

Had he done something wrong? Did Levi remember his own homophobic beliefs and felt the need to put a stop to this? And if so, will he punish Eren for seducing him into this? 

Eren inhales carefully after removing himself from the man’s length. It takes him a few seconds before he’s able to get up, legs shaking. 

The man gives him a once over, parts his lips and pauses before speaking. 

"Undress." 

The request is unexpected. Regardless of what they'd been doing a mere few moments ago. Eren had not thought Levi to want to take this any further than having himself pleasured by him. 

The boy automatically hooks his fingers underneath the hem of his shirt before halting. His stomach grows tight and his face flushes.   
It's not that he's shy... Levi's seen him naked countless of times before.   
The consensual part of it... the fact that Levi demands it and knows Eren will obey. 

Or perhaps it’s nerves of never quite knowing what Levi’s intentions are.   
After all, even as they both gaze at each other while undressing, this could all be a game the man is playing. Every minute that passes could be Eren’s last. 

But he has to do this. Running nor fighting is an option. All he can do is wait for an opportunity and in the meanwhile play along. 

When Levi pushes his fingers against his chest, forcing the boy to step backwards until the backs of his knees are pressed against the bed behind him, Eren knows what will happen.   
They’re going to fuck... They’re going to have sex and Levi will fall asleep right after... Would he sleep deep enough after such physical activity to allow Eren to dress in thick clothes and walk to the town? 

Should he risk it tonight? Or should he stay in bed with him...   
Should he smash the man’s skull with the hammer hidden under the bed? Should he try and find those sleeping medicines Levi’s surely been slipping into his drinks and food before, and drug the man?   
Should he tie Levi to the bed when he’s asleep? 

Eren gasps when the man shoves him; forcing him to fall onto the bed. His naked body bounces on the mattress and though he goes to sit up, Levi growls a simple ‘stay’. And Eren obeys. 

Lying down, naked on Levi’s bed, gaze cast towards the ceiling, the wooden floorboards cold underneath his feet, is a nauseating position to be in. 

Silence stretches between them and while Eren tries to figure out if he’d rather cup himself out of embarrassment or just cry his eyes out, a rhythmic and slick sound breaks the stillness. 

He’s jerking off. 

The boy swallows, grows sick to his stomach at the knowledge of being this vulnerable and this alone and yet still being used by Levi to get off to. 

“You said you like it when I watch you.” Levi whispers, his voice thick, breathy. 

“You said you’re not afraid of me.” He adds and Eren squeezes his eyes shut as he hears Levi pick up his pace. 

“And yet, here you are, on my bed... Trembling and flaccid.” 

Levi knows. Levi knows Eren’s bluffing. Levi knows Eren wants to escape him. 

Squeezing his eyes shut even more tightly can’t stop tears from rolling down his skin. His nose prickles and his breathing begins to stutter; eager to make him sob.   
Minutes ago Eren had assumed he’d been sick for not minding to suck the man off. Yet, now he’s lying here, insecure and frightened at the assumption of the man hurting him. 

There’s a war raging between his desires and fears. He would enjoy sleeping with Levi –he's sure of it- if it weren’t for the risk to it. There’s no way to know that Levi won’t choke him to death, there’s not even a way to know Levi wont force himself into the body; dry and unstretched. 

Levi’s cruel by nature... Why would intimacy occur in any other shape? 

Especially since Eren’s body betrays how he’s not aroused not only by the lack of swelling in his own length but as well by the sobs that are shaking his body as he curls in on himself. 

Eren breaks down. Loses himself in a panic that rushes over his body so suddenly he could have never prepared for it accordingly.   
Ears ring, heart pounds and his lungs constrict. 

“I won’t hurt you, Eren.” Levi’s voice echoes from a distance. 

“I won’t hurt you.” He repeats, yet he sounds far away. 

“You have my word.” 

A warmth presses between Eren’s shoulder blades, begins to rub in small circles until the heat of it spreads across the boy’s skin. 

As Levi strokes his back, he repeats his earlier words. 

“I won’t hurt you, Eren. I won’t. I promise this. I will not hurt you.” 

Eren isn’t sure how long Levi talks to him. Time passes by and when the boy’s sobbing has quieted down, there’s a blanket cocooning him. The man is lying behind him, an arm thrown over him, his voice still murmuring the same words that only now penetrate the boy’s conscious. 

‘_ I won’t hurt you. _’ 

Never before has Levi said this... 

The demons and monsters, the creature that is Levi had formed these words differently in the past. 

‘_ I don’t want to hurt you. _’ Is what it used to say to Eren. A sentence pronounced in a manner that had only worried the boy more. Unlike now, Levi had seemed to have spoken this sentiment for the sake of reminding himself to not harm Eren. 

It’d been a wish. 

Not a fact. 

Despite the knowledge of Levi’s murders and his cruelty, Eren is soothed by the reformed assurance. It could be his own mind fooling him in a conjured naivety. Yet, in this moment, after his sheer panic and fear, it is necessary. 

Be it a lie or not, for now, just for now in this very moment, Eren needs to believe in the rebirth of this creature. 


	34. Guttural Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only a few more chapters left

Aware that Eren’s lying, Levi spends the entire night awake. He kills the hours staring at the boy who rather easily managed to fall asleep after crying his eyes out.   
As surprised as he’d been by the kid’s emotional breakdown, Levi still maintains some clarity to his own view.

That is that Eren is up to something.

That is that Levi has to slow down and take a few steps back to gain the boy’s delusional state in which he’d been unaware of Levi’s true from, again.   
The kid’s still not ready to accept the man. Levi had acted too quickly, had medicated this teenager _too _well.

Eren’s  _ too  _ aware, his normally foggy mind  _ too  _ clear.

The man’s impatience will one day be the death of him, he knows this. Next to  bein g g reed y and self-absorbed, Levi craves to move along his own story; one involving Eren. If he could open up the kid’s skull and rearrange his brain so it’d grow fond enough of Levi to forgive him all his sins, he would.

But he can’t quite crawl deeply enough into the kid, has fucked it up by revealing too much when Eren had been too observant.

Drugging him to sleep, or cutting off medication to have Eren resort back to existing along with terrifying hallucinations, is an option he has to consider. Yet, he doesn’t necessarily want to.

To Levi, the only thing in this world that’d allow him to end his own ways would be by being understood and appreciated by Carla’s son. There’s no other goal, there’s no other destination at the end of his path. A path which he craves to walk, rather than turn a  different  corner that will only lead him to a lonely existence, an inevitable suicide.

It’s Eren or nothing. Eren or misery.

This as well had been the reason as to why he’d brought him back.

In that moment, make no mistake, Levi had wanted the kid dead. Choking him, squeezing his windpipe and feeling his skin contort the more he wrung his neck, had been an  exhilarating sensation. It’d been an experience he’d never went through before. Not a single murder had felt this intimate, this  _ arousing _ .

He’d wanted him dead. For what he’d done to Levi. He needed to pay, needed to suffer, didn’t deserve to walk this earth and didn’t deserve to reunite with his parents he still believes to be dead.   
No one who ever fucked Levi over had lived to gloat about it.

More than anything, Levi had been looking forward to eating him afterwards. Raw, boiled, baked. Every piece and organ of him prepared in a different way.

But when his body went limp, when his jaw relaxed from the tense agape position, when the creases around his eyes smoothened out because they’d went from squeezed shut to half-lid; gazing at nothing... Levi had let go of him as if the kid’s skin had burned him.

Observing a dead Eren, leaves and dirt smudged together with the blood that had knotted his hair, had shocked Levi. His breath had been lost and even his heart halted momentarily at the horrific sight of it.

This boy... He’s not meant to be dead. It’s ugly and unbecoming. The mere knowledge of Eren’s normally warm skin b eing  cold were Levi to embrace him in death... 

It didn’t sit right.

That night, giving the kid mouth-to-mouth and pumping his chest to urge his heart to beat again, Levi had experienced panic for the first time in his life. For the first time he’d felt on the verge of tears. For the first time he’d regretted a decision. And for the first time he had prayed to a God he doesn’t even believe in.

‘ _ Bring him back. Bring him back. Bring him back. _ ’

The  echo  of that night’s chant lingers in his mind even now, lying next to a warm and breathing Eren.

He’s grateful, maybe more so than Eren himself is. Yet, the sentiment is tainted with worry.   
How is he to get Eren on his side? How is he to get Eren to truly _see _him, understand and accept him?

Fucking him had been the idea.

Since that night in the forest, after the fear experienced about losing Eren permanently, the revulsion towards intimacy with another male dissipated.   
So sudden, so easily, that it makes Levi second-guess his own past convictions when it comes to his sexuality.

Whereas he’d been so frightened, so disgusted at the idea of doing anything more than having his dick sucked by Eren, Levi now struggles to find even a flicker of doubt.

He wants him. He’s choked him and killed him and all that’s left now is to fuck him and eat him. The latter, unfortunately, isn’t an option. Unless he manages to convince the kid to have Levi remove just a tiny piece from him to have a taste.

Doubtful.

The man exhales, tortured by his own fantasies, as he watches the kid sleep soundlessly.

It’s odd to see him this peaceful. Only hours ago the kid had been sobbing, shaking, frightened out of his mind. It’s rough to accept that Levi himself is the cause of Eren’s anxiety.   
There should be no hallucinations, Eren hadn’t seen the devil jerking off to the sight of him naked on the bed.   
Only Levi had been perceived, and yet he’d _panicked_.

Even after the awkward –albeit pleasing- blowjob, something in Eren had shifted. Or perhaps  Eren’s mask had fallen off... revealed his true opinion of Levi.

A grimace distorts Levi’s face at the thought of being lied to. His hands itch to reach out, pinch the boy’s skin in some petty form of punishment.   
But he just stays still.

All night.

Until daylight creeps through the gap between half-drawn curtains, beckoning Eren’s eyes to open.

The boy inhales audibly through his nose, a half-heartened gasp as he stares at Levi, wide-eyed and frozen.

“Surprised I didn’t kill you?” Levi jokes, knows it’s unsettling the moment Eren recoils at his words. Oops.

“Not funny.” The boy murmurs back, lowers his eyes and rolls onto his back so slowly it looks awkward.

Levi smirks slightly, relieved at the retaliation; reminding him of their bickering before Levi had ruined it by confessing to the kid.

The morning slowly crawls by but Levi doesn’t move, stays in bed because Eren does. The boy’s been lying on his back for an eternity, hands on his chest, eyes gazing at the ceiling.   
It’s almost peaceful like this... A new beginning, perhaps. Just resting together, no arousal, no anger, no fear.

“Are you going to follow me around today as well?” Eren asks Levi.

The man shifts, slides a hand between his cheek and the pillow he’s resting his head on. He considers how to reply, knows the answer though chooses to ask a question himself instead.

“Would you mind?”

The boy’s brow furrows slightly, yet he doesn’t look over to meet Levi’s stare.

“Can I at least shower by myself?”

Levi wants to deny Eren this freedom. He wants to stay close to him and watch his every move. Though this craving stems from wanting to make sure the kid doesn’t conjure up a plan behind his back, it’s even more so because he just wants to be near him.   
Watching him all night, smelling his sweat and listening to him breathe... It’s not enough. He’s just gotten hungrier for the boy.

But... he wants Eren to like him again, like he had before. More than then.

“Sure.” The man agrees and grows giddy when Eren looks over at him.

The teenager watches him for a moment, eyes darting from Levi’s gaze to his lips and back up .

“Last night...” The boy begins and despite Levi’s curiosity to hear him out, he interrupts him.

“It’s fine. Go shower.”

They can talk about last night later. They have time, so much time now that they’re both still alive.   
Besides, allowing the kid to relax by not forcing a conversation on him, might put him in a better light for now.

Being entirely selfless is never Levi’s way. Calculated is.

* * *

Something in Eren shifts. Once again.

Levi doesn't know exactly what part of him, but he can see the cogs in his brain turn, hinges dislodge and his mind is reassembled right in front of him.   
Cocking his head at the peculiar emotion leaking from Eren's green eyes, Levi wonders if this readjustment is for the better or worse of them as a unit.

He can't quite ask, however, as Eren himself seems busy trying to process what is going on in that head of his.   
There's a tinge of fear within Levi. He's scared that the kid has made a decision without informing Levi of it first. A decision that could ruin what Levi wants for the both of them.

After all, expecting this boy to reciprocate the mangled desire Levi feels for him is only a guilty pleasure. It could never be truth.   
Eren isn't cut from the same wood Levi is and in a sense that should've warned him of Eren never quite understanding his ways.

But, though uncommon, it's happened in nature before that predator and prey bond, help each other out.   
The outcome, in the end, is brutal. But not if contained. Not if tamed.

In that case, it's Levi who requires the taming. Eren's quite alright except for that time he attacked and ran away.   
But he'd been frightened, of course, because he believed Levi to have no control over his hunting mannerisms. Because he’d expected Levi to hurt him as well.

And sure... He did kill him... But maybe that only helped him realize that he isn't necessarily doomed when it comes to murdering.

People before Eren had been pawns. Of use. Like food to a predator.   
Eren on the other hand had been pleasure, self-indulgence. An aspect closer to humans than animals.

So... Levi is more human than he thought he was.   
So there's hope then?

"What?"

Levi blinks as he crawls out of his own mind and focuses his gaze on Eren.   
The boy has asked Levi to repeat the sentence that shifted something inside of him just now.

Levi wonders if repeating it would once more reassemble aspects in the  teenager's skull.

"You harassed your mother, set your father on fire and were dumped by them, here; with me." Levi repeats blandly.

When hearing it for a second time, Eren lifts a hand to his forehead, his eyes darting around though it's because he's going through his thoughts rather than looking around the room.

Levi frowns. Wonders if he is finally remembering.

"I don't..." Eren starts.

It's his generic excuse.  _ 'I don't remember' _ . And though Levi is aware the boy legitimately has issues with loss of memory, he's also highly aware it's selective. Albeit at times influenced by shock and the hallucinations that kicks in with previous medications or lack therefore.

"They're alive... then?" Eren asks himself more than Levi.

Still, the man responds. Confirms it with a hum and nod.

His heart skips several beats as Eren processes the information that he already knew yet had chosen to forget.   
What if this is it? What if Eren now even more than before will desire to get away from Levi, from this cabin in the middle of nowhere? He now knows he’s not alone on this world, there’s more people out there than just Levi.

But if Levi wants Eren to like him, if he wants him to trust him... He needs to play a bit nicer, act like he has the best interest in mind when it comes to the boy. Despite this, a plan  brews within Levi.

Levi remains tense, worried that his attempt at playing the honest man he suspects Eren wants, will end up screwing over the both of them.

"Why didn't you-"

"I did tell you." Levi interrupts up him, not willing to take the blame for this kid's delusional mind.   
An ironic thought, considering how much of an abomination Levi himself is.

"Multiple times. You just never seemed willing to remember. Or accept it in the first place."

Eren watches him for a few moments. His eyes are watery and his nose red, yet something withholds him from crying.

"Is that how  _ insane  _ I am? That I attack my own  _ parents _ ?"

Levi considers this. The answer is pretty much an affirmative. Eren's demented, to put it kindly.   
If Carla were to be believed, this boy has had a dozen different diagnoses by different shrinks.   
If Grisha were to be believed however... the boy never saw anyone.

"Perhaps you retaliated." The man suggests, plants a seed of ' _ what if _ '. A justification, a makeshift excuse for this boy hardly able to live with himself as is.

What if his parents are the bad guys... and not Levi?   
After all, they gave Eren to _Levi_. How absurd is that in and on itself?   
Surely Carla knows what he did to Erwin... she can't be that naive. Not like her son.

"What would justify my acts?" Eren whispers out loud. His eyes are wide and his lips parted as if he's out of breath.

Levi hides a smirk at his choice of words, edges him on instead.

"You tell me." The man murmurs, shrugs and glances away as if he hadn't just set up a trap for him.

The boy remains silent for a moment before he turns around and walks over to a one-seat near Levi's bed. They should be heading to bed. Their second night sleeping together. Yet this is more entertaining for now,  _ necessary _ .

Levi watches Eren drop himself down on the chair heavily, Arms spread and legs stretched. He tilts back his head, stares up at the ceiling, likely busy making up stories to give reason to why he'd acted so cruelly to his own parents.

Inhaling deeply, willing down the excitement at having turned the tables, Levi walks closer to the boy slowly. His steps are soundless and it is proven by how the boy jumps when he rests fingers atop his shoulder.

He doesn't pull away however, travels his eyes from the ceiling to Levi leaning over him.

"You weren't born like this, Eren." Levi lies, waits for a second before lifting his fingers and instead grazing his knuckles over Eren's cheekbone.

He doesn't flinch this time. Only stares.

He’s hungry to be fed lies. Back to his naive self, his cowardly ways. Always running from the truth and when faced by it; altering it.   
Levi isn't sure who he is thinking about... Eren or himself.

"But it started early on... Something... might have happened to you." Choosing his words carefully, Levi doesn't look away from Eren's green eyes. Holds his gaze as he bluffs, as if the eye-contact alone is enough to have him drink his words. Or have him make believe that there is a soul somewhere within Levi.

"Did dad drink?" Eren asks, frowns.

Oh, he's going for  _ that  _ story, is he? A troubled and violent home life. Domestic abuse at the hands of his drunken father and neglect from his mother who keeps her head in the sand.

"I'm not sure... Alcoholics tend to hide it well."

Both lies. Levi is pretty certain Grisha rarely ever touched alcohol. And alcoholics -the worst kind- did a terrible job hiding it. You could see it on their skin and in their eyes, even when sober.   
Their reasoning was even more crippled than their appearance.

Eren hums, eyes distant as he is lost in thought.

After a moment longer, Levi removes himself from Eren's seat, instead choosing to sit in its duplicate right across from the boy.

"Why you?" Eren asks once he readjust himself in the one-seat.

Levi considers the question. In all honesty he's not sure himself. Carla had been desperate but why she hadn't just dumped Eren in a psychiatric institute... then again, they'd been having financial issues.   
Had it just been for the sake of keeping it cheap? Had they rather their child removed and attended to for a mere three hundred bucks they sent Levi monthly? Rather that, than get him the treatment he needs and pay buckets?

Selfish... or innovative.   
It had only taken Levi a few months to figure out the right mix of medication to patch up this ‘monster of a child’. A phrasing not originally worded by Levi but by no other than Eren’s father.

"Because we gravitate to one another." Levi answers instead.

Finally, some truth to his words.   
He'd only met Eren a few times when he'd been younger. The kid had been throwing tantrums early on and yet when Levi was around, Eren got quiet.

At first the man had believed the boy was frightened of him. He'd gone as far as to consider children being able of instinctively knowing the true identity of a person. So, he'd thought that Eren had somehow known -at five years of age- that Levi was messed up. That Levi had murdered before and would do it again.

Yet, setting aside his own grudge against this boy for taking away Carla from him, had allowed him to observe the truth rather than a mere wild assumption.

Eren had been fascinated with him. Levi isn't sure what it had been that had attracted Eren to him. He'd been so young there can't be any deeper meaning to it other than that he liked the way he looked or sounded.   
Regardless, the more Eren came to him, the weaker Levi's grudge became until eventually he fell out of love with Carla, grew fond of her son instead.

It all had started with Eren. And ended with him too. It's all Eren.

"As a child, when you would be upset, I'd hold you. And you'd go meek immediately." Levi admits, wonders if this boy had been infuriated at the world because Levi and him had been separated almost his entire life.

Maybe they're meant to be together. Maybe Eren is better now because he's with Levi. Not because of medication.   
And maybe Levi, after murdering this boy, is now capable of putting an end to his own rotten ways.

Together, with hard work.

Levi let's his eyes linger on the boy's lips, wants to bite them off, swallow them down so he can be kissed all the way through.

"I remember you telling me about this before. In the hospital."

Levi hums at the memory. Despite the incident having been caused by Levi having fed the boy medication he'd been allergic to -accidentally, mind you- it'd been for the better.   
He'd witnessed Eren's outrage at Levi keeping secrets from him. Secrets he'd told him before.

That day had been telling to him. Informed him that as much as Eren was lying to himself, he wasn't to Levi. Not intentionally.

"If I would've died..." Eren begins and the change of topic catches Levi off guard to an extent where he grows rigid immediately.

Their eyes meet and Levi is afraid to move, to break the spell.

Eren's thought-process is never quite decipherable and now, once more, the man wonders how he mentally went from the hospital-scene to his death in the forest.

"If I'd stayed dead." He corrects himself, folds his hands into his lap, gingerly; a rather unnatural position for the teenage boy.

"What part of me would you have eaten?"

The question -hearing Eren speak on this topic- causes Levi to grow heated on the spot.   
He shifts in his seat, wants to cross his legs to force down the excitement he can feel brewing, but chooses to grip the arm-rests tight enough to whiten his knuckles.

"Why do you want to know?" Levi is curious to hear the answer to this. He feels almost giddy at the thought that Eren is trying to understand him, to see where he's coming from and eventually even forgive and accept him.

Eren glances away, fingers fumbling before he catches himself acting nervously and fakes his demeanor like Levi does.

"You told me you take parts from people that have to do with why they had to be killed." Eren elaborates.

Levi purses his lips, argues with himself if he should mention the truth or not.   
The truth being that he'd planned to eat every part of him but only keep _one _piece dried in his notebook.   
That's, again, where Eren's different to all others. Levi's never wanted to eat an entire human before.   
These pieces he collects are for the sake of rebirth, of cleansing himself and becoming all that he's taken from this earth. It’s nothing to do with perversion.

But Eren... the part that he would've taken, the reason as to why he'd been murdered. It'd been betrayal. He'd betrayed Levi. Had hurt him more deeply than anyone before him had.   
He'd been a traitor. He'd mocked Levi. He'd killed a part of Levi that night by taking his confession and then flinging it onto the ground, stomp it to puddle of sludge.

It'd been betrayal from the deepest depths of his heart.

Levi glances at the boy's chest, soothed and salivating at the knowledge that the kid’s heart remains beating; young and strong. Forgiving and seductive.

Tempting.

"Your heart." Levi says, withholds a grimace as he awaits the boy's reaction, even after cleverly not mentioning wanting to devour the rest of him as well.

The boy shifts in his seat, sits up straight carefully, as if expecting Levi to jump up and shove his hand right through his ribcage to retrieve what he is hungering for.

“I don’t get it.” Eren whispers, his voice hoarse.

Levi can’t suppress the smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. He knows Eren notices because his sight lingers on his lips.

‘_Do you want to kiss me?_’ Levi asks in thought, somewhat hopes the kid will hear it echo in his own skull.   
Of course, he doesn’t. They’re not that close where they’d manage to finish each other's sentences. Then again, how bland would it be were they to be _that _in touch with one another?

“That’s quite alright.” Levi murmurs. A throwback to bickering experienced before.

Whether or not Eren catches on, Levi isn’t certain. He is too distracted by the sight of him starting to unbutton his shirt.

Levi blinks, confused and uncertain as to why Eren’s proceeded to bare his chest after the witty come-back.

The boy glances at him, quickly, likely to check if he’s watching.

And he is. Levi’s mind has quieted down as he’s entirely transfixed by Eren.

What is he doing? Why? What even initiated this?

Only when the boy, after getting up and walking over, sits down on Levi’s lap -bare-chested and hot- does he remember to take a breath.

“What are you doing?’ The man asks in a whisper, looks up at the boy meeting his gaze with a far more nervous one.

The smile on Eren’s lips doesn’t meet his eyes, goes as far as to wobble. 

Levi would’ve not grown suspicious had it not been for Eren cradling the back of his skull and pulling him closer until his ear is atop hot skin.   
The heartbeat is loud, rumbles in the teenager’s chest, the pace of it fast; stressed.

In hindsight, it’d been a clever approach. Seducing Levi to lower his guard. Playing along to have him blinded from secretive plotting.

But Eren’s mistake is that he’s tried it all before. The mistake is that Levi now knows what the kid is capable of and even in this moment, aroused and intoxicated by his weight and scent, Levi can feel something is off.

Eren lacks experience and subtlety. Moreover, does this kid not possess a single speck of patience.   
He’d probably told himself that he’d play along for days, if not weeks or months, before trying to attack the man again.   
But for some reason, he’d chosen tonight.

Maybe it’s because of the mentioning of Eren’s parents. Maybe because the promise of a second attempt at intercourse lingers in this bedroom.

Whichever is the reason, Eren’s too transparent in his nervousness and hence Levi  senses the hammer coming for him.

The man reaches up, grabs the boy’s wrist, ends up staring right at the weapon he’d used to undo the kid’s restraints just a day before.   
When he’d managed to get it from under the bed and hide it in the one-seat is beyond Levi. It probably had happened when he’d requested to shower alone and Levi had gone downstairs... Of course, how silly of him.

Eren cries out and drops the hammer when Levi twists his arm.

Unlike before, there’s no sense of betrayal. There’s no bond broken. There’s only disappointment for a future ruined.

Levi had granted Eren a second chance. Something he doesn’t give anyone. But a third one is not in the picture.

“Fooled me twice...” Levi hisses into the boy’s face before he gets up, shifting both their weights until they tumble onto the floor.

Straddling the boy, Levi wonders how he could’ve been this stupid. How had he believed this boy would change his perspective? How had he believed, only moments earlier that this boy had put  _ him  _ above his own parents?

And how  _ stupid  _ is Eren for thinking he could gain the upper-hand?

Levi watches the boy gasp for breath, observes how he digs his fingers into Levi’s wrists as he chokes him.   
It’ll take longer this time. There’s more of a fight being put up, but as well will Levi make sure the boy will regret stepping onto this earth. Will be grateful to leave it.

“Shame on you...”


	35. Foggy Patterns

**!!!! WARNING !!!!**

*****!!! DUB-CON / NON-CON !!!*****

**Having come this far, I'm sure you might not be easily triggered, but please; if you have any doubt, check the END-NOTES for more detailed (spoilery) warnings for this chapter.  
**

I do not condone what occurs in this chapter WHATSOEVER (nor in previous ones for that matter, damn)

* * *

A familiar pattern.

Eren wakes up  in a bed. Levi’s bed. He n otices the pain in his throat before he does the ache in his lower-body. At first  Eren  believes Levi to have defiled him while he was unconscious, yet when shifting  his weight;  can feel a pressure inside of him along with the dull pain .

When the panic sets in after realizing something has been inserted into him, Eren struggles. He’s bound to the bed, again. Yet, this time around, a blindfold and fabric -make-shift- gag accompany him.

_ This is it _ .

He fucked up and will pay for it.

Eren had made a big mistake. He’d attempted to smash the man’s skull with the hammer. His plan had been to kill Levi, wait for morning to come and travel to town, to safety. A risk he’d believed worth taking after the sly man’s tactics.   
The mentioning of Eren’s parents, and then figuring out Levi was trying to get him on his side by planting rumors of a horrible childhood into his skull... It was enough to convince Eren that time was in fact of the essence and any minute longer spent in this cabin would be the death of him.

Yet  Levi’s always one step ahead of Eren . Always. No exceptions and no escape.

No escape. Levi will come for him. Eren had failed, again. His only second chance wasted; angering the man only further.

The boy tries to scream, his voice muffled by the fabric stretched across his mouth. He tugs at the restraints, they don’t give. The more he moves, the harder it becomes to breathe. His nose is stuffed, feels as pressing as the cotton in his head and as dry as the bitter taste in his mouth.

Drugged. He’s been drugged. Eren recognizes the numbness across his body, feels it in how his heart stutters every now and then; exhausted to  continue  pounding in his panic.

The realization that he’s tied to a bed, that his senses are deprived not only by a blindfold and gag but as well by a generous amount of medicine, and that he’s been violated with an object still inside of him, hits him like a ton of bricks.

Eren screams again, the knowledge of no one being able to hear him even if the gag would’ve been removed shoved into the deepest corners of his intoxicated brain. He struggles, endlessly, growing short of breath so quickly he ends up hyperventilating. Panicking. No air. Just fabric. Damp cloth suffocating him.   
Prodding his tongue against the gag doesn’t help. Moving his head every which way –resulting in dizzy spells he has to ignore for the sake of trying to remove the fabric choking him- doesn't help either. The cotton cuts into the base of his skull, into his sore neck.

He’s feeling himself slip away, can’t inhale, drowns in his exhales.

Dying like this -

Eren considers it being better than getting bludgeoned by this man. This monster that could walk inside here any moment.   
Yet a big part of the boy wants it, wants it for the sake of having anyone –even Levi- put him out of his misery if not grant him air.

His chest is about to burst, his eyes are tearing up and his throat feels like it’s swelling dramatically . It’s the worst sensation ever experienced. He’d rather be hit with a rock again.

When Eren’s ears ring, when his stomach turns as an overdose of adrenaline tries its best to keep him alive,  when tip-toeing the edge of unconsciousness,  is when oxygen fills his lungs.

The boy gasps, wheezes and sobs the moment the gag is undone and he can inhale properly again. Lying on his back, Eren repeatedly chokes on what little spit he manages to cough up.   
It’s horrendous.

His head aches, pounds with every cough. The room spins so fast and violently the boy can feel his body tremble as it tries to find its bearings.   
The sobbing continues. Eren is frightened out of his mind, knows this is only the beginning, knows Levi is standing next to him.

“Please-” He cracks but is incapable of finishing his sentence when a slap hits him across the face.

Eren gasps at the unexpected hit, resumes sobbing immediately after while trying to beg once more, which results in yet another slap onto the cheek. This one impacts harder, causes little stars to scatter across the black of the blindfold.

“Levi-” Another hit.

Eren flinches, wishes dearly he could curl into a ball on the bed and hide from the man.    
With his body shaking and his brain throbbing, Eren tries to figure out what to do. More so, what Levi _wants _him to do.

Swallowing down his sobs  and  pleads , and instead sniffling in silence, seems to be the answer for now.

No fourth slap follows. Only a stillness that sends shivers down the kid’s spine. 

Eren carefully prods the corner of his mouth with his tongue. The skin is raw because of the gag, tastes bitter of medicine that must’ve collected there when he’d been unconscious.   
He swallows down bile, prays to hell and back that he won’t end up vomiting for fear of Levi either murdering him over it or making him eat it.   
Honestly, anything seems to be possible with him.

Nothing goes too far for Levi.

Nothing is over the top for a man who drugs a teenager and plugs him up like a stuffed pig ready to be slid into an oven. Eren huffs at his own thoughts, knows drugs are forcing vile scenery into the forefront of his demented brain.   
Would Levi shove him into an oven? Would he fit inside of it?

Do people fit inside ovens?

Maybe he’s been eating humans his entire stay? Maybe Eren’s been eating Jean’s corpse without knowing?

His heart flutters unpleasantly at the  horrendous  thoughts.

These bizarre assumptions continue to fly through his mind forever. They enter at  manic velocity, drip out of his ears like exhausted goo, sloughing, decaying.

Only when  a chilly breeze waves over  his body, does Eren manage to somewhat get a grasp onto reality. He hadn’t felt the blanket being removed, his skin numbed, yet the cold seeps  into his flesh unforgivingly.

A hot hand  presses down onto Eren’s right thigh. Contrasts atmosphere’s low temperature.

Eren  flinches, shakes his leg as best as he can with his foot being tied to the bed.

Another hand joins. Clothes rustle,  letting Eren know Levi is moving closer .

“Don’t tou-”

Eren pays for his words. An atrociously sharp pain jolts through his upper-leg before he manages to finish his sentence. The hurt is so intense it punches the air from his lungs; prevents him from yelping and instead forces out a high-pitched sob.

At first, the boy thinks he’s been stabbed in his thigh. The pain is so absurdly intense, the pressure of it nearly forcing him to pass out.   
But he realizes a more horrific truth when the man finally speaks.

“Tasty.”

_ He  _ ** _ bit _ ** _ him _ .

Levi bit him .

Eren had no idea this act could hurt that much. He had no idea that’s what it felt like.   
Levi must’ve ripped out an entire piece, that’s what it feels like, especially when a hot sensation seeps out from where the pain has now dulled down.

_ Bleeding _ .

Proven by how a tongue laps over his skin.

“It seems like I have to spell it out for you.” Levi says , smacks his lips once . His voice sounds far away, but fingers travel up Eren’s throbbing thigh to his hip. Levi is close. The distance perceived  by sound alone  is a lie.

“Don’t talk.” The man adds and Eren finds himself having to force himself to translate the words in his panicking brain.

“Scream all you want... But don’t you dare mutter a word.” Levi hisses, accentuates his anger by grabbing a hold of the boy’s stomach, grasping the skin and twisting it like he’s wringing a wet towel.

Eren cries out, voice muffled by the ringing in his ears and the fog in his skull. It sounds like someone else is screaming from an adjoined room. But Eren knows it’s him, notices it by how the sound only appears whenever he opens his mouth and pushes out air from his lungs.

“Don’t you dare speak to me.” Levi whispers. Or shouts. Eren can’t tell.

Regardless, the message is clear.

Eren remains still, suffers through the throbbing in his thigh, the heat on his cheek, in silence. A silence disturbed by sobbing, a stillness deformed by trembling, shuddering. It’s bone-rattling, this fear, The apprehension leaves Eren breathless. The shock caused by knowing he will die –violently- fills his mind. He drowns in it. This gut-wrenching horror deafens him from anything that isn’t Levi, that isn’t his own shaky breathing and pathetic sniffling.

It’s a nightmare. It can’t be real.   
He has to wake up. He needs to shake off this... this _hallucination_. Surely, this is not reality. This is not happening to Eren. Things like this happen to dumb, generic characters in movies. Not to Eren.   
This is too absurd to be real, it’s made up... make-believe by his own brain trying to freak him out. And succeeding at it incredibly well.

It isn’t real.  ‘ _ Bother your demons _ ’ . Just say it... Just tell this creature to fuck right off; scare it away by being aware of its inexistence.

But Eren can’t. He’s too afraid to speak against the monster telling him to keep quiet. Because what if it  _ is _ real? What if this is actually all happening?

How will he die?

No, he won’t. Hallucinations can’t kill him. As long as he stays still and rides out this nightmare, he’ll wake up from it unscathed.

But if... real.

How? With a hammer? Choking? Will Levi eat him alive? What technique has he not utilized with previous victims?

A weight presses onto his stomach. Hands wrap around his throat. Eren only sobs as he once more gets choked by the man.   
He welcomes the darkness swallowing him barely a handful of seconds later.

Anything to get this over with.

* * *

A familiar pattern.

Eren awakes.

The sunlight is bright, its  rays guides for fluttering dust particles. 

The simple beauty of it lasts for a little while until he ends up inhaling too deeply, his dry throat scraping enough to have him end up coughing. He sits up, catching his breath before his eyes linger on the raw bruises on his wrists.

Restraints are gone.

Eren moves his legs and though relieved to find them free, he stirs at  the  pressure  i nside of him.

It’s still ins erted ...

Weak, shaky and incredibly drugged, Eren glances around the room. The movement of his eyes alone is enough to have him grow dizzy and despite being seated, Eren falls down onto the bed. Gravity holds him as he stares at the ceiling which swirls, swirls, swirls until his stomach turns.

He swallows repeatedly, shudders at the taste, as he sits up halfway with an elbow firmly planted into the mattress.   
Eren’s nose prickles, as do his eyes.

He looks around once more, carefully this time. 

Levi isn’t here.

Without hesitation he reaches behind himself, travels trembling fingers down until feeling hard plastic.

Despite starting to sob almost uncontrollably at the knowledge of Levi having slipped a plug inside of him while he’d been unconscious, Eren doesn’t waste time in removing it. He tosses it onto the floor, his arm flopping down heavily along with the rest of his body.

He lies on the bed for a long time after that, staring at the black object; slick and jarring on the wooden floorboards.

It’s unreal. The entire experience, the entire situation feels like it’s happening to someone else. Eren feels like a bystander, like he’s watching a movie but is on the set of it. It’s similar to lucid dreaming. The worst kind.

There’s no running from it however. Glancing at the door, Eren knows Levi is right behind it, probably peeking through the keyhole. Even if the man would be gone, Eren is too intoxicated to do anything and he’s unsure of how long it’d take for him to sober up... If it will ever happen in the first place.   
What if he overdoses?   
Unless someone shows up to save him, Eren will die here. Eventually. By drugs. By Levi. Life doesn’t seem picky in its eagerness to off him.

Hours –he assumes- pass by. Eren falls asleep, wakes up, falls asleep, and wakes right back up. Endless. Agonizing. The cycle is ruthless, yet the boy manages to stay conscious a little bit longer each time he wakes.

He thinks.

He’s not sure.

Eren feels heavy. Exhausted. And thirsty.

“Thirsty.” The boy whispers. There’s not a drop of saliva in his mouth, yet his eyes keep tearing up as if he’d been standing in cold wind for hours. They’re not tears caused by emotion, not quite. He’s just so tired of keeping them opened.

“ T he nightstand.” A voice whispers.

Eren jolts at how close Levi sounds to his ear. Yet his heart doesn’t continue to skip several beats at this alone. More so it’s because he’d heard Levi whisper into his right ear; the one pressed firmly against the mattress.

A monster under the bed. In clear daylight  no less ,  it hides .

Groaning as he bites back the urge to sob, Eren lets his eyes travel from the floor to the nightstand and sees a large glass of water atop of it.   
The memory of Levi under his bed slips away at the promise of hydration.

Reaching out, the muscles in Eren’s arm tremble at the effort of fighting gravity. His fingers tremor as they stretch towards the glass. He gets closer, closer, until a voice makes him pause.

“ P oisoned.” Is whispered into his left ear; above him.

Eren ignores the warning, ignores the shadow blanketing his peripheral vision.  Too thirsty to care.  He reaches for the glass, fingertips touching the cold surface.

It seems to take several more minutes of wrapping his fingers around the object. Every little bone aches as he grips it tightly before sliding it closer towards him.   
The glass ends up balancing on the edge, the water inside swishing as Eren prevents it abruptly from toppling off the stand.

Biting his tongue,  pushing up his weight on one elbow, Eren inhales once. Twice. Three times before willing up the courage and enough strength to lift the glass off the furniture.

A relieved but shaky huff tumbles from the boy’s lips.

The sentiment is lost immediately however when a bony and pale arm reaches from under the bed, grabs Eren’s elbow, burns his skin upon the touch.

Eren yelps, more from being startled than from the painful grip, and watches in horror how the glass of water slips from his fingers.   
It shatters onto the floor, shards and liquid spread out like a blood splatter on the floorboards.

The hand  disappears; retrieves itself back under the bed hastily . And Eren collapses back onto the  mattress , panting, sobbing.

“I wanted to help you.”  It whispers from under the bed.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

The words are revealed as a lie by the muffled  giggle  afterwards.

Eren doesn’t care. Can’t care. Slips into unconsciousness out of sheer exhaustion alone.

* * *

The pattern.

Wak ing up .

Drugged. Hurting.

Thirsty still.

But not hungry. Just nauseas. Stomach filled with  pills .

A shadow at the foot-end.

Observing him. Still but looming. Quiet but threatening.

The shadow grows the longer Eren looks at it. It vibrates, its edges jarred, pulsating while it expands its wings. It gets closer but higher. Hovers over him. Suffocating.

Until white light evaporates the stifling atmosphere. 

Eren travels his heavy eyes towards the bedroom door from which the light had burst inside. It is opened wide, reveals a snow-white hallway.   
Levi enters.

Or?

The boy squints at the brightness which settles to daylight the farther the man steps inside.

Eren wants to ask who he is, but his lips crack the moment he puts pressure on them. The ache is dull. Yet the taste of iron makes him feel even more sickly.

The man comes closer, looks down at Eren with nothing but sympathy on his features.

Eren frowns.

The stranger looks like Levi. But it doesn’t  _ feel  _ like him. His edges aren’t sharp, there’s dark-brown layers to his hair -no pitch black strands- , his eyes  a light  blue -not a cold gray- , his skin a peach -human, not ghostly pale- , his clothes... white and soft .

For a long moment Eren considers having died. He considers having managed to pass right through to Heaven, witnessing a Levi he’d desired plenty of times in his own fantasies. Witnessing a Levi he’d hoped the man had been behind the snark and bite, underneath the cold and chaos.   
Perhaps Levi died with him... Maybe this is the side of him allowed up here. The sharp creature surely left in the deepest pits of Hell.

Eren stares at Levi for a long time. Finds himself hopeful and fascinated by how relaxed the man’s lips are. They’re not thinned, they’re not curled into a sinister smirk. They’re just... soft, pink, look like they could share with Eren the kindest secrets. Like they could comfort him, tell him it’s all okay, it was just a bad dream.

When the man reaches out, brushes fingers through Eren’s hair, scrapes nails pleasantly over his half-numbed scalp, Eren considers the possibility of Levi having a twin-brother. Had Levi been the evil twin? Had his parents’ friend been this one right here?

Eren wants to ask for help from this stranger with a familiar face. But no sound leaves his dry throat. The air in his lungs feel like dust, scrape like sand on the way up. He coughs once.

And the man shushes him.

Not unkindly. No.

_ Soothingly _ .

This Levi ends up crawling into bed with Eren, spoons him from behind. His skin is hot against the boy’s.   
Though not remembering him having taken off his clothes, Eren finds the man is naked. 

Eren stares at the room, the floorboards a soft cream, the walls nearly white, the ceiling invisible behind a layer of snowy fog.

Levi wraps an arm around his chest. Lips brush over Eren’s nape and the pressure inside of him , that he’d experienced what feels like weeks before, returns.

He should panic, once he figures out what is happening. But when Levi starts rocking into him, hot and slick and deep, Eren relaxes even more.

The sick feeling in his stomach dissipates. The cotton in his skull makes room for a pleasant tingle which soon spreads all the way down to the tips of his fingers and toes.   
Eren _moans_, the gravel in his throat gone. Saliva welcomed when he swallows down another sound as Levi pulls out.

Closing his eyes, Eren focuses on the sensation of the man’s tip breaching him, pressing deeper. Agonizingly slow. Until his pelvis is pressed flush against Eren’s bottom.

A single pant falls from the man’s lips. T he exhale hot against the boy’s skin. T he arm around Eren’s  chest  tightens. Levi kisses his nape, l icks  it, hot, wet. Pulls out and pushes back in.

Eren’s jaw goes slack at being stretched repeatedly. His body shivers whenever the man holding him brushes his lips over the back of his neck. And when Levi goes as far as to nuzzle the short hairs at the base of his skull, the man’s name rolls off Eren’s tongue.

The rhythm picks up at his moan, rocks Eren atop the mattress, causes the wooden frame of the bed to creak gently.

Levi’s weight increases against Eren’s back, forces the boy to roll over onto his stomach. The man follows him, doesn’t allow space between their bodies.   
It’s hot; Levi’s skin. Eren revels in it, wishes he could lift his arm behind himself to touch the man. But his entire body has gone limp and he settles for brushing his fingers over the fabric of the mattress he’s being fucked into.

Levi huffs before crossing his arms underneath Eren, clasping the boy’s shoulders and use them as leverage to pull himself up whenever thrusting inside of him.

Eren moans at how much more deeply Levi enters him, wonders if he’s dreaming, wonders if it’s the drugs in his system that allow him to enjoy the sensation this much.   
The heat inside of him, the stretching and the slick motions send shivers up his spine continuously.

He would have never guessed it to feel this good, like an itch being scratched from the inside out. Like an empty and cold space being embraced and squeezed until only warmth and comfort is left. No pain, no discomfort,  _ no  _ _ cruelty _ .

Just a forgiving kindness which the boy desperately craved.

Levi replies to the boy’s soft moans with a whisper of his name. He fucks him faster, and a tad harder, but not an inch of the boy’s body is hurting or uncomfortable. Not a single muscle inside of him is tense or clenched. All is loose, mellow, liquid until he feels like he’s melting into the mattress underneath.

The man fucks him for what seems like hours, but not long enough.

And Eren just goes breathless throughout it. He gasps, feels himself shudder, hadn’t noticed before that his own length is trapped between his stomach and the bed. The climax catches him off-guard as it feels very different from any of the times he’d come before.   
It’s _slow_. A wide-spread tingle waving through his body over and over as his muscles fail to tense up enough to have the orgasm eclipse fully.

But he  _ is _ coming.

And it reoccurs. It lasts, stretches on while Levi thrusts into him continuously.

It’s when Levi sinks his teeth into the nape of his neck, the action not painful through the layers of drugs, that Eren can feel himself vaguely toppling over the edge completely. He spills. Wet hotness smearing over his stomach as Levi rocks him into the mattress a few more times.

The man bites harder while he jolts, buries inside as deep as possible, fills up the boy with his own climax.   
The sensation feels like closure. Like Eren had craved to experience the slick liquid inside of himself. Like Eren had _needed _this man to spill into his very core.

They pant, they moan through their breathing. Their bodies shudder with intervals, riding out lazy orgasms until Levi’s weight grows heavier as he relaxes on top of him.   
Eren groans quietly at the heaviness, yet once more finds himself to not be uncomfortable.

Levi kisses his nape, his lips soft atop a dull ache hidden between Eren’s flesh and intoxication.

Eren feels himself slipping away. The white room growing darker when he peeks through his eyelashes. The creature might return along with the shadows. Might come to rip him apart, finish the job Levi hadn’t yet... But surely...

Surely Eren will wake. Surely the pattern will return once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NON-CON = Eren wakes up with a butt-plug inserted into him. (This has been inserted while he was unconscious, hence = non-con)  
DUB-CON / NON-CON = Levi will have sex with Eren while Eren is HEAVILY drugged. Eren does enjoy it and is not frightened. BUT, technically still NON-CON since he's too drugged to know any better.


	36. Boiling Baths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: DUB-CON, mild gore, and the good ol' cannibalism

The snow cracks underneath his boots. Even with the thick leather and steel tips, Levi can feel the cold seep through the fabric of his socks.

It hadn’t snowed here for as long as Levi had been living in this cabin. It makes him wonder if it’s a bad omen, a hint at his own, personal demise.   
Or maybe it’s a good sign.

Levi halts, stares up at the light-gray fog far above him, suffocating the world from sunlight. _Apocalypse_.   
Snowflakes scatter, flutter down onto his skin, onto the earth, onto bare trees and the old cabin.

Exhaling, the man eyes his home, knows he’ll have to move away soon. After Jean, after  Hange and now Eren, walls are closing in. He can feel it, even when not knowing it for a fact.

It’s a tremor in his ears, a shudder in his veins.  A thickness in his blood.

He’d experienced it after Erwin, he is familiar with it, knows to trust it.

This part of his story is coming to a close. It’s time to start saying goodbye and move on.

Levi glances up at the window of his bedroom, reminds himself of the intimacy experienced with Eren in his bed. His lips purse together, a pit in his stomach; fueled by  a  nostalgic melancholy. A sentiment that doesn’t suit him. Nor Eren for that matter.

The man is displeased that it had to come this far. That he ’ d  had  to drug the boy until he couldn’t even remember his own name in order to be close to him. In order to have a taste of what they could’ve been . A taste of  _ him _ .

Pulling up his shoulders against the cold, Levi rounds the cabin, crosses the backyard. He walks for hours. Even with the entire forest being blanketed in white, he knows where he is going and he knows how to get back.

He also knows that the normally four-hour walk will take nearly twice as long in this weather. But it’s still better than the rain and mud he’d faced when disposing of Hange’s car, piece by piece, part by part.   
Unlike her vehicle, her body is buried a handful of miles south from where Levi is heading. Jean’s burnt remains, on the other hand, are hidden in the east.   
Erwin; a bit to the west of Hange. It could be perceived as a sentimental choice since they’d been no strangers to one another in life and though not buried together, at least they’re in the same part of the forest in death.

Not that it matters.

Dead is dead.

No use in pitying th e irrelevant.

Levi is tempted into testing the world’s faith. The massive lake of which at the bottom lies belongings of people having crossed Levi in the past, is frozen over. A thick layer of snow hides the truth beneath. Hides from Levi the density and certainty of a solid platform.

Regardless, unfearful of the outcome, Levi steps onto the lake, waits for the ice to crack and have him sink lower than he ever has before.    
But nothing happens and with a huff, the man walks towards the center of it.

He sits down, waits for a moment longer, before lying himself onto his back.

If a God existed in this very moment, it could have Levi  be  swallowed into the freezing water underneath. It’d be a painful death, albeit hasty. People underestimate the horror of drowning, the ache of contracting muscles and all-consuming panic. People underestimate dying. And overestimate life.

Blinking snow from his lashes, Levi stares at the fog far above him, expects a hand to break through it and grab him, squeeze him until his entrails shoot from every cavity in his body.   
It’s what he deserves, _if _considering the morals humanity has conjured up to keep a hold on their own perverted minds.

Constrained thoughts. Imprisoned monsters, each and every one of them.

But Levi had broken free. Somewhere along the line, quite early on in life, he’d escaped this cage of righteousness. He’s set loose in a world of captured creatures. He roams, seeks out any being reaching out for him through the bars of their own constraint.   
Yet no one does. Others are blind to him. And on the rare occasions someone sees him, someone presses their face against the bars to speak to Levi, to observe him... They end up disappointing the man.

Until Carla.

Until Eren.

Carla reached out. Held Levi in her grasp for a long time, but never quite desired to break free from her own constraints. But she’d been admirable.

Eren on the other hand... He’d been a beast himself. He’d grasped Levi by the ankle, tugged him down; nearly dragged him into the cage with him. As if living captured was an option, an option Levi had considered.   
But he never quite joined Eren in his morality and Eren never quite escaped it either.

A  wall  between them that had crumbled, had bent and cracked and broken but still maintains that cursed  border between what is good and what is wrong.

It has separated them forever; this concept of  _ evil _ .

Levi snarls soundlessly at the knowledge. His fingers dig into the snow, grabbing a handful before lifting his arm and rubbing the cold material over his face. It causes him to gasp, but only a little. It causes him to wake from this slumber he’s been in for the past days. But, only a little.

If there is a God, it doesn’t seem to bother ridding the planet of Levi. The man lies upon the ice in the middle of the lake for the better part of an hour before he gets bored with his own existential self-torture.

The walk back home takes a big chunk of the afternoon and with winter looming over him, darkness settles by the time he reaches his backyard.

Levi unties his boots once inside the kitchen, doesn’t bother turning on any lights. The place is quiet, the snow outside stifling any wind, catching any sound. Nothing reaches the cabin.

Dumping his jacket on the kitchen table, Levi hums to himself for a few seconds. A generic tune of an even more generic song. It’s not like him to break the silence. His own action gives him pause, makes him consider if he’s nervous... On edge about something.

Instincts do betray at times.

The man shakes off the feeling, ascends the staircase in the dark by toeing at the first step, the rest of them are easily taken without  calculating .

Though he does flick on the light in the bathroom, he turns it right back off once he has undressed and his bath is ready.    
The man slips into the hot water slowly, groans quietly at the sensation of how every muscle in his body defrosts from the cold he’d faced nearly the entire day.

He lets himself sink lower, lower, until his entire head is submerged. The dull pressure in his ears deafens out his own thoughts. It’s welcoming to say the least.

Levi lies in the bathtub until his skin prickles in irritation at the water’s far too high temperature. Though showering in equally hot water on the regular, Levi hadn’t tortured himself this pleasantly in a long time. He doesn’t take baths anymore, though isn’t sure why.

He used to bathe himself just like this whenever he’d had a particularly brutal nightmare, a particularly vicious thought. Like a punishment of sorts. Until he’d figured out that who he is, is not wrong, not evil.

It’s the world that is askew.

So, why is he bathing now?

Why is he boiling his own skin in a pitch-black bathroom tonight? What did he do that deserves this?

Coming up for air, the man gasps, pants and revels in the dizziness causing the room the sway at the lack of oxygen he’d forced on himself.

Punishment.

But enjoyable.

Even when he repents it is with a sense of selfishness.

Relaxing his body, Levi’s thoughts immediately crawl to the back of his skull, open the door behind which he’s stored his every thought of Eren. It is opened wide, reveals a bottomless pit, yet filled to the brim with the boy’s limbs, the boy’s torso and various versions of his head.   
Levi could swim down the collection of dismembered and decapitated Erens and still never come out at the other end. There just is no outcome behind the boy. It’s Eren, Eren, Eren and only Eren and nothing else lies beyond the boy.

Nothing.

Why even attempt to get through it, through him?

Levi misses him.

A peculiar and vile emotion. But he does.   
He wants him back under him, wants to slide into him, already stretched out and lubricated. And he wants to stay there, atop his hot skin, inside his even hotter body. He wants to drive himself into him repeatedly, soft and deep, hard and shallow, and he wants to bury his teeth into his neck. Draw blood, tear muscle.

The man exhales heavily through his nose, feels his teeth ache at the memory of chewing the boy’s flesh; surprisingly tough and though tasting differently than he’d expected; deliciously filling.

Levi reaches down between his legs, squeezes his half-hard length until it hurts, forces it to settle back down.   
Not like this. Not without the boy.

Yet he  can not stop himself from reminiscing the days after Eren had tried to attack him.

* * *

The guttural gasp that leaves Eren’s throat when Levi bites his thigh is as surprising as it is arousing.

Levi had expected a scream, knows it is painful even through the medication fed to him. But to hear the boy lose his voice at the intensity of it, is even more pleasant than a yelp could’ve been.   
Good. It’s punishment after all. Punishment for talking, for trying to tell Levi what to do.

Punishment for attempting to kill him with the hammer Levi had intentionally left under the bed, just to see if Eren would betray him.

The kid failed the test. Sadly.

Yet, the amenability when tied up and afraid... It makes Eren’s actions almost forgivable. If only Levi could have a little bit more, if only the kid would grant him something more.

He chokes him out after tasting his leg. 

Levi sits on top of the boy for a long time after that, just staring at his unconscious state. He reminds himself of the plug he’d inserted inside of him last night, wonders if Eren had felt it when he’d been awake just now.

It had rubbed against him, metaphorically, when defiling the boy in his sleep like that.  But, Levi is convinced that inserting something into Eren when he is awake would be more traumatizing. A poor excuse, but considering he’s murdered him before... How big of a deal is this, really?

The man’s lips are tight, the marginal amount of amusement conjured up in his mind does not meet his mouth or eyes. It fails to meet conviction, even.

Eren is not willing enough, yet. He’d screamed, gagged and sobbed. He’d shaken his legs and struggled when Levi had touched him.   
It annoys Levi. No._ It pisses him off_.

Why can’t this kid just accept him? Why can’t he just trust him?! He’d brought him back to life, he’d medicated him to help with his hallucinations. He’d taken him in after his own damn parents gave up on him?

So why, in the living hell, isn’t he fond of Levi?

‘ _ Because you’re a creep. _ ’ His thoughts provide mockingly.

If that is the case... He’s gone too far by now. Levi gave Eren another shot, and the kid blew it. So from now on, there are no excuses fueled by whatever little empathy is left within him. Levi can take what he wants.   
Eren deserves no better, not if unaccepting of Levi.

He can take him now. Levi can have Eren in any way he wants. No more holding back for the kid’s sake. For Carla’s sake.

Levi prods the boy’s mouth with two fingers, opens his lips, hesitates. He could slide his cock in there, could probably fuck right down to his throat with how out of  it Eren is.

Yet, still, something holds him back.

Levi frowns, clenches his jaws at the tinge sparked in the back of his mind.

Empathy? Regret?  _ Morality _ ?

Biting down on his own tongue, the man gets off Eren and leaves the bedroom abruptly. 

His thoughts are scrambled, like he’d taken a shotgun blast to the skull. Everything’s messed up, separated in such tiny pieces he can’t tell them apart. Backed into a corner, forced to face his own sludge of thoughts splattered on the floor in front of him. Forced to pick out the parts necessary to put back inside, fix him up, get a hold of himself.

Leave out the ruined ones...

It’s an impossible task. 

Levi stands in the hallway for  h ours, staring at the floor, trying to figure out which pieces are good and which are wrong. 

In the end he scoops it all back up, shoves it all back in his head; hoping they’ll settle down a bit differently this time around.

* * *

There’s not much going on inside of him.   
Levi stares at Eren, watches carefully for any emotion other than the tinge of lazy bliss lingering across his features.

… He might have drugged him a bit too heavily.

Yet, isn’t that what Levi wanted?

Glancing over his shoulder at the plug on the floor, notifies him that Eren –at some point in time- actually had had enough sense to be aware of something having been inside his body.   
He doesn’t look too upset, however. Seems rather entranced by Levi’s presence.

Levi reaches out, brushes his fingers through chestnut strands; freshly washed the night before by no other than the man. Silky.

Eren is mellow. Relaxed, peaceful. Stretched and lubricated down below.   
Ready.

_ Ready _ .

Levi rounds the bed, undresses, lifts the blanket and crawls under it until he is spooning the teenager.

Time goes by slowly, but Eren doesn’t seem bothered by Levi spending the next few minutes rubbing himself against his behind until fully hard.

The boy is searing hot when Levi embraces him and it is a pleasant appetizer to what the man can expect once he enters him.   
Sure enough, sliding his cock inside of Eren causes Levi’s breath to hitch at how hot and slick he is. Even after having had the plug inside of him for this long, Eren’s muscles wrap around his length snugly, fitting them together like a glove.

The boy exhales deeply, a hint of a starting moan at the base of his throat which doesn’t quite come out.

“Yeah... That’s it.” Levi whispers as he buries his face in the kid’s hair, inhales the shampoo he’d used on him last night.

Pulling out of Eren, leaving the tip inside, Levi travels his hand down the kid’s chest. He bypasses the boy’s cock, not interested in it as much as he is in the bite-mark on his thigh. The wound  –less than a day old-  feels soft , the indent deep and with the knowledge of the missing piece sitting somewhere in his bowels, Levi shoves himself back inside Eren.

The ridged muscles inside of Eren are apparent with each thrust, caressing Levi’s cock with intent; promising a hasty climax. The man moans,  removes his hand from the wound and  travels  it back up the kid’s chest in worry of coming prematurely.

Though he hadn’t planned on fucking the boy from day one, there’s an immense relief being experienced in this very moment. Nuzzling the kid’s neck, Levi wonders how much of his desires for this boy had been a sexual attraction in disguise. Perhaps he’d been so set in his homophobic ways that he’d never dare consider that all he needed was to have sex with him.

What if he  would’ve done this before this mess?

What if he’d just taken the boy on that first night? He could’ve knocked him out and fucked him and maybe that would’ve satisfied this torturous hunger he’s been experiencing. That hunger that led him to do the dumbest thing like revealing his murders to Eren over and over. That hunger that led him to grow so passionate he’d killed the kid , killed Jean and Hange .

That hunger that made him believe this boy could ever understand him, and be on his side.

A soft moan takes him out of his starting panic and Levi pushes Eren down onto his stomach.

He fucks him harder, wants to watch his own length disappear into the boy’s hole repeatedly, but can’t bring himself to let go of him.

Wrapping both arms around the kid’s chest, Levi sinks his teeth into the nape of his neck and starts pounding into him.

The bed creaks loudly at the force behind his shallow thrusts, but Levi’s ears listen closely to the slick sounds of his cock moving in and out  Eren , to the huffs of breath being forced out of the boy being squeezed between Levi and the mattress. 

A pressure builds up. And Levi’s as excited as he is disappointed to be reaching his orgasm this soon. But he can’t slow down. Thrusts into Eren faster and harder, sinks his teeth deeper into his nape until he tastes blood.

He hadn’t meant to bite hard, just desired to feel the edges of his canines prick into the cushiony flesh of Eren’s neck.

But Levi always takes it too far.

“Eren.” He moans the boy’s name, hardly notices that  Eren is  coming.

When Levi spills inside of him, his gums ache at the force put behind them as he bites down on the kid’s flesh until his teeth clack together through the tissue.

Blood fills his mouth, he gulps it down, nearly chokes at the shuddersome pleasure flooding his system.

It’s good, it’s so fucking good and he wants to experience it over and over with this boy.

He wants to fuck him again, every day, multiple times. And he wants to bite chunks out of him until there’s nothing left to eat from him but his insides. And then he’ll fuck him on the inside, he’ll eat muscle and tendons and fuck whatever hole is left  on  him and he’ll revel in-

“What are you thinking about?”

Levi jolts at Eren’s voice breaking through the silence of the pitch-black bathroom. The water that sloshes at his movement feels chilly... How long has he been bathing for?

“Food.” Levi murmurs, his voice absurdly raw. He watches Eren’s outline, is surprised the boy’s sober enough to even walk and form a sentence since he’s been drugging him for an entire week just to fuck and eat him.

“You’re still hungry?” Eren asks and there is a wit to his words that makes Levi miss him. He misses the clear-headed kid, the one with some fight in him.   
And not this... this half-decomposed siren.

Eren reaches into the water and for a second Levi thinks he’ll rip off his dick. But the boy only huffs  –as if having heard his thoughts-  before turning the faucet and letting more hot water pour in.

They spend moments in silence until the water turns lukewarm and the already-naked Eren enters the bathtub.

Liquid clatters as it overflows onto the tiled floor.

“You know...” Eren murmurs as he leans forward.

Levi grows tense when the boy goes to sit on his lap. Their bodies mushed together in the small space.

“You’ll go insane, if you keep eating.” An amusing and pointless fact about cannibalism.

Levi smirks half-heartedly at the kid’s joke, reminds himself to get some more medicine in his system to keep him from being this witty. He can’t have the old Eren return. Despite wanting to bicker with that boy from back then, it’s too risky.

He needs him subdued and disorientated at all times.

“It’s worth it.” Levi admits, can’t stop his own hands from resting on the boy’s hips.

Their eyes meet through the dark. Eren’s are half-lid, intoxicated still.

“That good, huh?” Eren queries.

Even if having had an answer, Levi can’t reply because the boy reaches behind himself. The man shivers when his erect length is touched, and eventually angled before the boy sits down on it.   
Though water is a horrendous lubricant, the boy’s been lubed up for the past week and even in this moment, fucking him goes easily.

The man’s eyes flutter close when the boy lifts himself partly off his cock before sinking back down at an agonizingly slow pace. It goes on forever, a bottomless hole of Eren. Just Eren. All that he sees, hears, smells... 

Watching Eren lift himself up and down as he fucks himself on him, Levi can’t help but whisper encouragements. Like observed before in cheap pornography as a teenager, the man keeps speaking softly.

‘ _ So good _ .’, ‘ _ Shit _ .’, ‘ _ Yeah, just like that. _ ’ and the occasional ‘ _ Fuck, Eren. _ ’ slip from his lips without intending to. The boy milks the words from him like he does his length and Levi finds himself nearing the edge all too soon.

Nails dig into the boy’s hips and Levi bares his teeth in a hiss.

“Let me taste you.” Levi demands, tries to crane his neck to reach the boy’s shoulder and rip off another chunk  of  him.

But the boy leans away, sits down so abruptly that the man’s entire cock gets swallowed inside of him. They both  moan , though Levi’s vision goes white for a split second at the intense pleasure experienced by being buried this deeply.

“Okay.” Eren agrees.

Levi groans at the willingness, feels his hardness twitch at the thought of being able to consume this teenager with consent.

Eren lifts himself back up, slides his  hands off of  Levi’s shoulders and instead hooks his arms around his neck. The boy picks up his pace, fucks himself on Levi a tad faster this time around and the man finds himself meeting him halfway by lifting his hips each time the kid moves down.

The very moment he goes to sink his teeth into Eren’s shoulder (the one that isn’t patched up because he had already bitten it two nights ago) the boy stops him.   
Not with a hand, not even with words. But with hismouth.

Levi freezes, peers through the dark at Eren’s closed eyes.

“What’re you-” He tries to ask while pulling away but the boy follows him, pries open his lips with his tongue and starts to kiss him.

For all the fucked-up shit he’s done in life, Levi wouldn’t have guessed a kiss would render him momentarily speechless as well as motionless for that matter.   
Yet, he sits there, being kissed and fucked by Eren for an embarrassingly long time.

When Levi refuses to move, exceptionally uncomfortable at having the kid lick inside of his mouth, Eren puts one hand atop one of Levi’s.   
The man doesn’t notice it at first, but when his brain focuses onto the fact that Eren’s forcefully pressing down his fingers into the bite-wound in his thigh, Levi awakens.

Levi pulls away slightly, meets Eren’s eyes for a second. Something fills the air, something needs to be said, or needs to be hidden. But he can’t quite figure it out in time.

“Come on, fuck me.” Eren whispers before pressing his lips back onto Levi’s.

And this time around, something inside of  _ Levi  _ shifts. Something inside of  _ Levi  _ changes.

With one hand on Eren’s waist, the other on his thigh where he prods almost nervously at the indent left by his teeth, Levi starts thrusting into the boy. 

Eren meets him, seems to fuck himself on him harder the more firmly Levi fondles the bite-mark.

The fact that he’s fucking a willing Eren –an Eren closer to the sober one-, the fact that Eren himself fueled his perversion of rubbing and stroking and prodding the indents left from where he’d ripped away chunks of flesh... Oh, how enticing.

By the time he’s kissing the boy back, nipping at his lips and tongue and having their teeth clack, Levi’s forgotten the fact that Eren denied him from eating yet another piece of him.   
Sure, he isn’t ripping out a chunk of his shoulder or neck or leg, but he’s swallowing his saliva, he’s scraping his teeth over the boy’s tongue, sucking his lips and grabbing him by the hair. He’s fucking him so hard water keeps splashing onto the floor, their bodies moving in the tub creating slippery sounds that would be amusing but only result in getting the man more impatient, more annoyed at the lack of space to pound into the kid harder.

“Get out.” Levi gasps after pulling Eren’s head  away  by his hair.

“Wha-” 

The man is too greedy to explain. Lifts the boy up by the waist and pushes him over the edge of the tub.

Eren, though understanding, is too intoxicated to catch himself and stumbles from tub to floor in a rather awkward fashion.

Neither of them care.

There’s no embarrassment. There’s no hiding. The room is dark and their senses are blinded by hunger as is.

Levi gets out of the bath, presses down the boy who was about to get back up, and forcefully shoves himself inside of him.

The boy groans, tries to get on all fours but slips on the water and falls back down.

Levi lifts Eren’s hips, holds them firmly and starts fucking him in a fast, shallow pace.

Pounding into him, he observes as much as he can see in the dark. Watches the boy’s body writhe and shift up and down over the floor as he fucks him with force.

He wants to kiss him again.   
Or eat him.

He’s not sure which he’d rather do.

They shouldn’t be comparable.

Consuming this boy should be a priority to his sickly spirit. But Levi finds himself hungering to shove his teeth and tongue right back into the kid’s mouth.

It takes him too long to decide. The thought distracting him long enough to have him accidentally come.

“Shit.” Levi hisses as his pelvis stutters. His cock pulsates along with the seed he is spilling inside the teenager. The waves of his orgasm continuing for a solid few seconds before the intensity of it  ebbs away into a mellow heat.

The man shivers once, twice, before he grows too heavy and lies down onto the tiled floor ; the cold biting into his hot skin.

The fantasy slithers away after a long time spent lying on the bathroom floor.   
Eren is next to him, but he’s not conscious and a pool of blood darkens the tiles underneath his head.

Face down as he is... Levi isn’t sure what happened to the boy. He’s had these black-outs the past few days... Getting drunk off of eating and fucking Eren. He’ll  be  fuck ing a willing boy  one second  and then after the pleasure has settled, will be faced with a rather dull and empty version of  Eren .

Like he’s fucking the spirit out of him every time.

Or it might be the medication... right?

Levi reaches out, strokes the boy’s wet hair, stares at his bloodied fingers right after.

What happened?

The kid’s insanity might be contagious after all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thank you so much for still reading this story as I'm aware people tend to quit when stories reach the 70k mark or so.
> 
> I have a bit of an important question for anyone truly invested in this story (people reading not caring all too much about this fic can skip this end note, still a big thank you to you guys as well!)
> 
> Okay, there's 2 chapters left and I'm about to tie up the plot.  
It would be incredibly helpful to me if you'd comment to me about the questions you still have considering the plot of this fic.  
For example, which are things you would love the answers to, what are things you feel like I perhaps oversaw or skipped over? What doesn't quite make sense to you?
> 
> Of course you don't know yet what will be explained in the next chapters but please don't let that stop you from asking perhaps obvious questions or things I am planning to cover regardless.
> 
> Second question would be, what are you expecting of the ending? What kind of ending would you love and what would you hate? This doesn't need to explain the entire plot points, but more of a direction this story could take.  
I have two endings in mind and will go with the one I like best, but if already having a feel for what you guys would love, I might sit down some more and work on the alternate ending as well.
> 
> The ending is always nerve-wracking. This story has been received so well by you guys and it'd be soul-crushing if the ending ruined it for you. I do write for you guys (legit, I can't abide to the 'write for yourself' rule whatsoever. You guys are what make me excited to come up with fanfics and keep spending my free time writing)
> 
> I would love to hear from you guys.
> 
> Have a good weekend :)


	37. Three Weeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the feedback to the questions I asked in the previous chapters, it's tremendously appreciated and was very helpful!
> 
> After this chapter you will likely have more questions left. But fear not, it'll be wrapped up in the final chapter coming soon!
> 
> (My apologies for the markup issues... I don't have the energy to go through the HTML code and updating the chapter doesn't seem the fix it either)

It’s been two weeks since that phone-call...   
Two weeks since they’d found Eren in that rotten cabin. Raped. Eaten. _Obliterated_. 

Only two weeks of time given to her to grieve. To process witnessing the state her son had been in. 

This alone has Carla have a chip on her shoulder at being interrogated about the man who had done these things to her only child. Her little boy. The light of her damned life. 

“Mrs. Jäger...” The voice is gentle but she has no sympathy for human kind in this moment. To know that there are people out there capable of doing what had been done to Eren, causes Carla to have no more sympathy, no more respect for humanity. _ For God _. 

She doesn’t take this with grace. She doesn’t receive this with patience. Carla is furious, scarred. A wounded animal backed into a corner, even helping hands reaching out towards her are now perceived as the vilest beings with the worst of intentions. 

She doesn’t want to be here. She doesn’t want to listen to this mad man’s stories about Eren, about her husband and herself. More than anything, she would prefer pulling off her own finger nails than listen to this prick talk about himself like he is so fond of doing. 

Levi Ackerman _ disgusts _her. 

An absolute stranger who’d been stalking the Jägers for over a decade, waiting for his moment, waiting to snatch Eren from their family. What kind of monster does this? What kind of man spends years of his life fantasizing about murdering a teenage boy?! What kind of despicable piece of- 

“Mrs... I know this is hard for you-” 

“Do you?” She hisses at the officer across from her. 

“Do you, really?” She repeats when neither of them replies, glances at both of them while leaning over the table slightly. She’s aware she looks like a crazed woman, with the bags under her eyes, her uncombed hair and feet clad in mismatching socks shoved into slippers. 

Carla can’t be bothered to dress up to sit in a police station for an entire day to go through the testimony of the man who’d ruined her child. Can’t be bothered to do it for the rest of the week either. 

This horrendous monster... 

“We are on your side here, Carla.” The female officer addresses her by her first name, tries to feign a familiarity between them... A bond of trust. 

She knows, in the back of her mind. Carla is aware they’re doing their job, tying up loose ends and they need her to testify against Ackerman eventually. They need her to assure to them that none of what he is saying holds truth. 

But it’s only been two weeks. 

Two weeks since they found him... 

Carla begins to sob, the officers call it a day. 

* * *

_ “Do you remember the day Eren disappeared?” _

Carla got up at six in the morning. Every day, as if she had a family of ten and needed to prepare five loafs worth of sandwiches for her children.   
She didn’t, never quite wanted more than one child if only for the sake of spoiling it rotten. 

The family home was inhabited only by her husband Grisha, herself and their son, Eren. 

A regular Tuesday morning. She got up at six, got ready for her work-day and prepared her son’s lunch before waking him up at seven-thirty.   
As usual, Eren got up groggy and in a foul mood. Nothing worrisome, just a typical fifteen-year-old boy wishing he could sleep in and skip a day of school.   
Which he never did. For all of his complaining and whining, Eren was driven. A fighter like his mother. Studious like his father. 

With Grisha overseas for work, Carla made sure to remind Eren of heading over to his friend Mikasa so they could be driven to school by one of her parents. Carla’s own job was at the other side of town than her son’s school, it’d take her twice as long to drop him off there and travel all the way back to work. 

A routine. Not at all unfamiliar. It’d been done before. Plenty of times, without incident. 

Carla left to work, returned home nearly twelve hours later. 

The first thing that struck her was the silence. The second; a scent. A sweet, musky perfume she recognized as her husband’s. It gave her pause.   
She called out for Eren who should’ve been home by now. No reply came. 

Her assumption was that perhaps he snuck out on a date, used his father’s perfume, failed to get back before she did. 

However, when entering Eren’s bedroom, she was met with the sight of opened drawers having been rummaged through, clothes strewn across the floor.   
On further inspection, personal items were missing. His ID and wallet (perhaps left in his backpack which also disappeared), his favorite fairy-tale book, a jacket, a bunch of socks and underwear. Even in the bathroom, his toothbrush and shampoo were missing.   
Her heart stopped. 

Though there had been no sign of forced entry and hence it made her momentarily presume Eren had perhaps ran away at worst, something more sinister had happened. 

Someone had gone through her own belongings in the bedroom normally shared with Grisha.   
And, when rummaging through Grisha’s nightstand, she found out that his handgun had been taken. More worrisome however, had been four bloody finger-prints on the doorpost of her bedroom. 

It sent shivers down her spine. Made the hairs on the back of her neck stand. 

More blood was found later by police officers. Identified as Eren’s later on. 

The investigation to Eren’s disappearance showed that he’d called Mikasa, told her he wouldn’t attend school because he’d been feeling ill. It also was found out that the boy’s school called the home-phone and that a male assured them Eren was sick and would attend by coming Thursday. 

No name was given.   
Only the description of the man’s voice was what they had to go off on. A voice described not at all similarly to how Eren’s or Grisha’s would’ve been. 

The darkest three years of Carla and Grisha’s lives followed suit. And though Grisha gave up on hoping, Carla always believed firmly her boy was out there somewhere. 

After all, her Eren was a fighter, just like his mother. He could not just vanish this easily. He could not just be gone, this simply. 

* * *

_ “Have you ever heard of Levi Ackerman before we found your son?” _

No. 

_ “Have you ever seen him before?” _

No. 

_ “Did you ever have a suspicion that someone was stalking your family?” _

No. 

_ “Have you ever heard of Erwin Smith?” _

No. 

_ “Have you ever heard of _ _ Hange _ _ Zoe?” _

No. 

_ “Did you ever meet _ _ Hange _ _ Zoe?” _

No. 

_ “Did you discuss Levi Ackerman and Erwin Smith with _ _ Hange _ _ Zoe in a local grocery store, at any point in time?” _

No. 

_ “Do you have any assumption as to why Levi Ackerman chose _ ** _ your _ ** _ son, specifically?” _

No. 

Carla had assumed that the court session would be more difficult than the interrogations she went through for nearly a month. Yet, she could’ve never guessed it’d be this hard, this demanding and consuming. 

It’s been nine months since they found him and though the story told by Levi Ackerman checks out, there’s an immense amount of confusion for anyone involved. A huge, looming ‘WHY?’ hangs above all their heads. 

Seeing him –the man who’d defiled her only child- sitting across the room, shielded behind bullet-proof glass as if he is deserving of protection and care... Watching him avoid her glare, not out of embarrassment but disinterest... Observing the absolute lack of insight and regret to what he’s done, to what he is... 

If it hadn’t been for nine months of therapy and prescription medication to calm her anxiety, Carla is certain she would’ve jumped down from the stand, ran across the room and tried to get inside that small cubicle. The things she wants to do to this man are beyond comprehensible. She wants him to pay, but knows that neither prison or the death penalty would make up for what he’d done. 

Because for some godawful reason, this creature still deserves human rights. Because of humanity’s own morals, this man can sit here and be protected under the label of insanity. 

Carla couldn’t care less about him being insane. Of course, he is! That doesn’t make it any easier on her. Only on him. Only Ackerman benefits from his own demented mind. 

Not Carla. Not Grisha. And not Eren, by a long shot. 

Ackerman’s attorney and psychiatrist testify for him. She is disgusted he was even able to get a lawyer to begin with... What kind of immoral prick would stand up for this _ thing _? 

They try hard to make it a sob-story. 

Levi Ackerman, born to a dead mother, living in orphanages, being adopted and brought back repeatedly because he had issues with controlling his anger. Violence practiced upon anyone weaker than him; hurting adoptive siblings, coming close to choking a baby brother at the age of six.   
A rage against humanity because of course, he himself had gone through rejection. Molestation. Abuse. 

Hearing his story, at how he spiraled from child to demon, doesn’t allow Carla to feel any sympathy for him. This man’s never been innocent, has been horrific from a very young age. She can’t even come to understand it when hearing about how he’d been beaten and raped in his first family. 

_ She doesn’t care... _

Carla has never been a harsh person. Forgiveness, kindness and empathy run through her blood. But every time a voice inside her mind tries to find reasoning behind Levi’s actions; the image of her son –nine months ago- flashes across her retina. 

She’ll see that picture until the end of time. 

The reason behind Ackerman taking Eren is bland but delusional. 

The man had spotted the family in a diner on a deserted road. Carla remembers that day, well over a decade ago. Eren had been five, they’d returned from a four-hour road-trip to a popular amusement park. 

They’d eaten pancakes, their moods elated at the wonderful trip they’d had. 

As Ackerman’s testimony, spoken through his attorney, described it; _ ‘It was the picture of a perfect family. A woman resembling my mother, a father that could’ve been mine. A boy that could’ve been me... I grew envious, did not understand why I was not born into a family such as theirs.’ _

To this very moment, Carla can not remember ever having suspected being watched on that day, nor being followed by car back home. 

And to this very moment, Carla can not fathom how this monster had gone from being lonely and envious to raping and eating her son. 

Nothing justifies it. 

His desire to be loved, having been too chaotic for anyone to peel through the layers of trauma and find a human –an innocent- pit at the center, can not justify him stalking a family for a decade. 

His loneliness, having been caused by being left alone repeatedly in orphanages and family homes, in locked closets and dark basements because he’d been unmanageable, can not justify him having kept Eren with him for three years. 

His entitlement, having never quite been forgiven and always blamed, never understood and always presumed, can not justify him drugging a boy for years just to experience a fraction of what it is like to have someone depend on him, to have someone he can hold, have himself believe he is loved. 

His perversions, cannibalism having grown into a sexual obsession years after a predatory man had bitten his privates when he’d been but a toddler, can never justify... 

Anything. 

The violence and depravity of the entire case luckily enough reaches the judge and jury accordingly and ‘guilty’ for an endless amount of counts is returned after only an hour’s deliberation. 

Ackerman’s label of insanity rules out the possibility of the death penalty. However, he receives three hundred and seventy-five years plus seven life sentences. No possibility of parole. All for what he’d done to Eren. Any of the other victims portrayed in his diary had never been identified, their IDs fake, their names either non-existent or belonging to living people who’d never heard of or seen Levi Ackerman. 

_ A fantasy... _

Carla watches police officers remove Ackerman from his bullet-proof throne, her breath hitching when he finally looks over to meet her eyes. 

She isn’t sure what she would’ve wanted to see in those dead eyes. Regret? Compassion? Nothing would satisfy her.   
Regardless, with tears running down her own cheeks and jaws clenched, she holds back the urge to snarl an insult at him from across the room when all she can see on Ackerman’s face is... well, nothing. 

Bland and empty. Pathetically pale and skinny. 

A foul, weak man who she hopes will be tortured for the rest of his life. She wishes everything ill upon him. Nothing but pain. Nothing but anything reigned with a vengeance. 

And afterwards... An eternity to rot in hell. 

* * *

It’d been three weeks. Three weeks since they had found him. Three weeks of her having waited until she could see her boy again. 

Being guided to his location by two men, through endless loops of hallways and turning too many corners to count, Carla has grown shaky.   
It must’ve come out in an exhale because one of the men looks over at her, asks her if she is sure she wants to see him. 

Of course, she does. No matter the state he’d been in three weeks ago... 

She grows chilly the closer they get to her son and though desiring to see him once more, she pauses before walking through the door held open by one of the men. 

“He doesn’t look much better than when he’d been brought in here...” A crude warning but for once, Carla appreciates another’s words. 

“I saw him being removed from that cabin... It can’t be worse than that moment.” Carla whispers, growing queasy at the memory of seeing her Eren –bluish pale, chunks of flesh removed from him everywhere, dried blood smeared across his naked skin, his hair an absolute mess of knots clayed against his scalp by blood and violence- being rolled out of the cabin on a stretcher.   
Officers running in and outside the house, shouting commands at one another. Ambulance workers and emergency medical staff making haste in getting the stretcher attached to the helicopter overhead. 

She’d only caught a glimpse of Eren, one arm –bone exposed at the bicep- dangling off the stretcher before a staff member shoved it under the silver-colored blanket. They’d worked fast, already pumping blood into him by manually squeezing a bag of it, an oxygen mask on his white face, the tank fastened next to him underneath the belts used to tie him to the stretcher before it was lifted into the air. 

She’d never seen him that pale... Her boy had always had a bronze tint to his skin, something from his father’s roots. Like a white blanket was laid over him... It made her heart sink. 

It’d been so noisy. So chaotic... The blue and red lights swaying across the dark forest repeatedly. She hates those colors now. 

And after that... Ackerman was removed from the cabin. He’d been entirely naked, covered in streaks of blood which had made her wonder to this day whether they’d been caused by Eren fighting back or by the man smearing her son’s blood over his own skin like a ritual. 

She’d screamed at him, had wanted to run over and beat him over the head with anything in her reach. But Grisha had held her and even if she’d broken free, cops would’ve done the job for him.   
His patience was admirable and even today he comforts her effortlessly, holds her through her nightmares, forgives her after she grows angry at the world around her. 

Three weeks since that day... 

“I’m ready.” She assures the man behind her, having had his hand on her shoulder while she’d been lost in thought. 

“All the best.” He whispers. 

She walks inside the sterile space slowly. 

The silence is apparent, the size of the room absurdly large considering how small the body on the bed appears to be. 

Carla holds her breath, walks over to the bed against the left wall. Looks down at her son for a long time. 

His pale skin and closed eyes, his shaved head as they hadn’t had the time to look for possible wounds without getting rid of the mess of hair obstructing their view and work. 

She reaches down, strokes fingers across the bump on his skull, telling a tale of yet some more violence. Her lips press together at the anger she can feel boiling inside of her. 

Bruises color the entire left side of his face, blues and reds. She hates those colors...   
Eren’s lips are chapped, a split right down the center of his bottom one. And though his nose has been left intact, the tubes inside of them make him look even less like himself. 

The repetitive beeps from a nearby device monitoring his heartbeat calm Carla down eventually. 

She sits down on a nearby chair after sliding it closer, takes a hold of his hand, revels in the warmth of his skin. 

Laying her head atop his chest carefully, Carla listens to her son’s heartbeat. It is loud and strong, overpowers the noise of the pumps helping him breathe throughout his medically induced coma. 

She smiles, her chin wobbling before she begins to sob. 

Of course, he survived.   
After all, Eren –like his mother- is a fighter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read chapter before reading this note! (spoilers)
> 
> Note: for all the true crime shows and podcasts I follow, I know very little about what sentences particular crimes get in my own country, let alone the States and LET ALONE a country I intentionally left unnamed for this fic. If you are a major in law or are studying it, I apologize for likely getting a lot of details wrong (hence why I stayed vague for the court scene)  
Same goes for anything medical.


	38. Epilogue: Hallway Creatures

He slides his finger over his jaw, down the left side of his throat. It stops, the digit hooked in the indent left behind.   
One of the surgeons who’d saved his life that night, had told Eren that just a hair’s width deeper and the main artery in his throat would’ve burst; would’ve had him bleed to death in a matter of minutes. 

Lucky... Lucky is what they all keep telling him he is. 

But they weren’t there. There in that hell-house for an entire three years. They hadn’t spent all those months drugged out of their minds; triggering the most horrific hallucinations along with severe memory-loss. 

At times Eren is thankful that he’d remained intoxicated for the entirety of his stay with Levi Ackerman. Though plenty of memories return in his chronic nightmares, there’s a filter between what he’d experienced and what had been mentally received.   
Then, other moments he wishes he’d been sober, so he could’ve fought him like he had the day when he’d been taken from his home. 

Despite not recalling much of what had happened when Levi had kidnapped him -thanks to a blow to the head with one of his mother’s led frying pans- police reports later stated that Eren had tried to escape. Bloody finger prints were found throughout the upstairs hallway where he allegedly had walked in on Levi.   
Five years prior, after Eren had been retrieved and Levi incarcerated; the man had shared what had happened that morning. His tales lining up with the nightmares haunting Eren’s nights. 

After finding the front door locked, Eren had gone in search of his keys which he couldn’t find where he left them on the kitchen counter. When noting that even his backpack in the hallway wasn’t present, he’d assumed he must’ve left everything upstairs and had made way to his bedroom. 

By the time Eren had ascended the staircase, a figure had been standing at the end of the hallway, barely able to make out through the darkness caused by a lack of windows and closed doors of adjoined rooms. 

Eren remembers having stood frozen for a moment in which his heart halted before it picked back up, this time pounding so fast and hard he’d been deafened and dizzied by it. According to Levi Eren had called out to him; asked him who he was and what he was doing here.   
And Eren remembers the man had not replied. Had only crept closer through the hallway. By the time Ackerman was only a few feet away from him, Eren’s legs had lost their jelly state and he’d been capable of turning around and sprinting down the staircase. 

Throughout his nightmares, it’s vividly recalled how he barely made it to the last step before Levi got him in a chokehold and swung the both of them backwards onto the staircase.   
To this day, Eren’s amazed and disturbed by not only the man’s strength but as well with how quickly and swiftly all had been done. Like he’d practiced it a hundred times before. 

Lying on the staircase, with the man’s body underneath him, his arm around his neck, his legs hooked across Eren’s shins to keep him from kicking around, Levi had proceeded to tell him what he’d expected to be done. 

Step one; call Mikasa. 

Step two; get his belongings and leave with him. 

The routine was followed right up until Levi said they should inform his school he wouldn’t be attending. 

Something about this demand had made it click for Eren that if he left this building with this man, he’d never get back home. By that time Eren had walked around the house picking up belongings in a haze, the man pacing behind him keeping some distance but still having it feel like he’d been breathing down his neck.   
The likability that this could be a practical joke pulled on him had vanished along with Eren’s meek demeanor. 

Unsure when he’d taken his father’s perfume, Eren has it sprayed into his eyes the moment he tries to attack Levi in the kitchen with one of his mother’s led pans. The burn had blinded him long enough for Levi to wrestle the weapon from him but hadn’t rendered him incapable enough to not run out of the room and on instinct; sprint back up the staircase. 

His father’s gun had flashed across his retina on repeat. 

Ackerman hadn’t been the standard burglar nor kidnapper he’d been taught about in school nor by his parents when younger. Eren remembers, even without his night terrors, how cold Levi had been, how impossible to read, let alone predict.   
Eren, on that morning, had tried all techniques; pleading and accusing, rage and cooperation. 

Had he been meek, he likely wouldn’t have had been hit over the head with a frying pan so hard he’d been knocked off his feet and hit his head on the corner of a piece of furniture.   
Had Eren followed his directions, he wouldn’t have had the man chase him down his own home’s hallways while he’d stumbled and bled.   
Had he just listened to him... Eren would maybe have heard the desire in Levi’s voice when telling him all he wants is some company for a while. 

“You’ll just stay with me for a while.” Ackerman had assured as he’d been sitting next to the house phone at the kitchen counter.   
Eren, half unconscious after having had a frying pan impact with his skull about a handful of times, had been too focused on staying seated on the barstool and not topple off. 

Eventually, he’d passed out. Recalls slightly how the phone had rang, how Levi had answered so... bizarrely calm.   
Moreover, within nightmares and memories, Eren remembers the man’s attempt at comforting him once sprawled onto the kitchen floor. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

* * *

The three years following that particular morning are a blur. A frayed string of passing time and experiencing horrors.   
Eren can only put time-stamps from his fifteenth to his eighteenth by trying to recall the seasons displayed from _his _bedroom window, at first. Until he’d been moved to Levi’s permanently the first winter. 

Fifteen years old, losing his virginity while drugged with such an intricate cocktail of medicine that it’d been a pleasurable experience.   
Fifteen years old, forcing himself to see kindness through the layers of Levi’s demonic undertones.   
And fifteen years old when he’d attempted to escape, twice, by attacking the man, when noting kindness was a ruse. 

Those first four seasons were spent in a haze of distress and disbelief. But even pleasure and hope. Emotions –albeit influenced by careful manipulation- coming close to resemble appreciation towards Levi.   
Levi spent the first year kneading him, whispering tales and lies until all Eren believed had been that his parents had abandoned him and Levi was the savior. Until Eren believed that he himself had been the insane one, losing his absolute mind while the man who fed him and had offered a roof over his head was the only stable and trustworthy aspect within his life. 

Everything had been shifting. Except Levi; a constant. Sturdy and promising. 

Until the end of winter caused something cold and menacing to crawl into Levi; take over his calm demeanor and change him into something hungry, something _ on edge _. 

Even to this day, Eren still tends to blame himself for the man’s downfall. Had Eren not fought back, had he not tried to attack him, perhaps Levi would’ve never spiraled like he had. 

His psychiatrist makes sure to remind him on the regular that none of what had happened had been his fault... But they weren’t there. There in that rotten cabin for an entire three years. 

With _ him _. 

After that first year, no light or positivity ever came back to him. 

As if hope itself could be removed from a person’s flesh, Levi ate it away from him. With every new wound, with every new confrontation of watching another human being chew a part of him, Eren lost himself. 

Drugs were welcomed. Unconsciousness was welcomed. Death was desired more than life. 

Even today... at times... Life doesn’t seem worth struggling through with the weight of what had happened to him.   
Eren isn’t a graceful survivor. He’s not going out there, speaking about something as morbid as cannibalism to young students just in case they ever bump into a monster like Ackerman. 

There’s no one like him left out there... And if there is, Eren wonders if they’re missing from Hell. 

He goes over that morning a hundred times a day, asks himself what he could’ve done differently, and he comes up with some new heroic approach every time. It is frustrating, being a coward, a loser, while the world envisions you a brave survivor. Or –as his mother likes to call him- a fighter. 

No, not quite. Eren has to come back on his earlier sentiment; consider that he perhaps had been _ just lucky _ after all. 

* * *

Eren’s thought about it before... Visiting him. Showing him all eighty-three of his scars. Would he get off on it? Would he end up jerking off at night in his prison-cell to the memory of Eren visiting him only to come and show to him the fully-healed indents of missing pieces of flesh. Like small shark-bites... distorted and telling tales of survival to others while it only displays trauma for the wearer. 

Despite avoiding the news in papers as well as television, with the coming age of the internet, Eren’s bumped into articles about Ackerman before. 

The titles always carry shock-value. Always mention the cannibal and the half-eaten boy. Half the time they don’t mention Eren’s name... But they always do Levi’s. Infamous even when imprisoned. 

It’s been five years. 

Five years of therapy and treatment and healing. But Eren still breaks down in a panic when a package arrives at his doorstep with Levi’s prison as a return-address. 

At first he assumes it’s yet another version of his confession. Levi’s changed his story quite a few times. Never for the sake of trying to get out but more so to keep everyone on their toes... or perhaps simply for attention. Attention from Eren perhaps... Plaguing him even when separated. 

Eren considers how Levi is the person he hates most in the world, and yet therefore is the one who roams his thoughts endlessly as well. He’s as consumed by the man as he must be with him. Levi and Eren, a peculiar pair, lacking mutual consent but more mended than a couple wedded for over half a century could ever be. 

The package lies on Eren’s kitchen table for nearly an entire week before he sits down one night and opens it.   
A part of him had expected to start smelling a rotting scent, expected Levi to have sent him some flesh from himself. A way to make up, if you will.   
Thoughts like these have him wonder if the man’s infected him by having sunk his teeth into him so many times in the past. 

A delirious venom. 

With a life-long restraining order, Eren is marginally impressed Levi managed to send him a package in the first place. 

Staring at the object for a long while, his finger-tips resting on his mobile phone, Eren asks himself if he should call his therapist before opening it. Or perhaps his parents... Yet, he doesn’t want to burden his mother with mentioning this man’s name, and his therapist just had a newborn... must be appreciating any sleep at one in the morning. 

Eren opens it, stares at the content for minutes before a cold breeze laps at the nape of his neck. 

The young man shudders, glances over his shoulder, expecting the man to be behind him. But all that meets his eye is the endless black of a dark hallway. 

The confession this time around is formulated differently. 

Eren reads through it at record speed. Parts of it make him nauseas, angry and sad, upset and worried, confused and inappropriately nostalgic. 

Though the words are printed, the last page consists of Levi’s handwriting scribbled down in pen. 

A personal message. 

Eren brushes his fingers over the writing, his heart fluttering at how he can feel the indent from the pressure put on the pen he’d written with. Like the scars on his body... wordless statements edged into Eren’s body by Levi’s teeth. 

As if written by _ him _ . Created entirely by _ him _. A self-indulgent fantasy for only Levi’s pleasure. 

Reading through it all, Eren feels himself grow rigid at the thought of being made-up. 

Levi’s personal message seems aloof, as if he hadn’t nearly killed him five years prior. As if they had kept in touch, as if they are old lovers complaining about their current marriages, reminiscing the wild years experienced together. 

_ The good old days. _

Reading over the last sentence countless of times, Eren is forced to shove it away from him. 

The confessions, written as a story, bound as a book... Full of lies for Eren, but certainly Levi’s truth. From Eren walking into that cabin and hallucinating Erwin right up to a more-honest rendition of his own mother's confession to an epilogue experienced as a current deja-vu.

The title ‘_ Ephemeral _’ is printed on the cover in a dull gold, the letters curly and absurdly elegant for its contents. 

Eren inhales shakily, suppresses the urge to start sobbing at Levi requesting of him to look behind him, find a creature within the stretched dark of the hallway.   
Eren inhales with a shudder, holds back his desire to pinch himself or stare at his reflection in a mirror, at Levi questioning whether or not the chapters of Eren’s life are written by _him_. 

Whether or not the last one’s been formed by the man’s hand. 

Whether or not the cycle’s come to an end. 

After all... as it is... 

_ “It all ends with Eren.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you have it. That's the story!
> 
> **For those not interested in reading the long note beneath;** I want to thank you for your support! Even if you never left a comment or a kudo, to have a single person give this fic a chance and read through it is humbling in itself. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> For anyone else interested to read what I have to say;  
Hey, thank you so much. The support I received on this fic is mind-blowing and I apologize if I never got to replying to your comment (especially the last week since my dad was in the hospital and my unlucky ass had a lot of stuff going on which I hope doesn't bring down the quality of this last chapter that I wrote during the chaos in my life)
> 
> To every single person who left a kudo, thank you so much!  
To every single person who left a comment, THANK YOU! You help me out so much.  
To those leaving multiple comments, to those sending me DMs, to that one friend I made (Who sent me candy for Christmas, omg), THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU.
> 
> You might think you just leave a comment and that I skim over it and don't really care but please know that I am someone who doesn't write just for himself. I write for readers, I write because I remember how wonderful it can be to binge-read a fic when life is tough, and I remember how exciting it is to come home from a long day at school/work and have a fictional story to escape into.  
And to know that for some of you I can evoke this reaction and these emotions just fulfills me like only a good-ass video game you put 600 hours into could.
> 
> The feedback on this story was incredible and I'm not just saying this to be polite or sappy but; if it weren't for you guys, I would've probably quit on this eventually.  
I'm not joking when I say I write for the reader and not for myself. Comments really keep me going and keep me motivated.  
In a way it's like being paid for my 'work'. Truly it's the most helpful thing anyone can do.
> 
> Enough about my sorry ass.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this story. I hope your questions are answered (as I'm aware some of you have a hard time keeping up with this storyline) and I hope this epilogue (despite personal problems) is worthy enough for you guys.  
I also wish you all happy holidays and if you don't celebrate them, I still wish you wonderful days ahead. Stay hydrated, my dudes <3
> 
> See you all in 2020!  
\---
> 
> Come yell at me on Discord: jalribai#2874  
Come see how inactive [my twitter](https://twitter.com/jalribai) is  
Come look at my ugly mug on [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/jal00t/)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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